Everything Changes
by Your Sweet Escape
Summary: A little lust. A little mystery. A little blood shed.
1. Should've Said No

**I don't own Winchester related items. BUT I do own everything else, and I'm very happy about that.**

Okay, so this is somewhat of an expierement. After dealing with Sam centered fics for a bit I thought I should let Dean have his turn. I'm still going to work on my other stuff (how could I forget it?!), but I'm kinda branching out. At least, I'm trying to. It's kind of weird writting in his POV sometimes (he's so different from Sam...obviously) so I'm not sure how this is going to come out. For now, it's a short thing. If you want more simply send me a nice little review. Or, if you think I should just put it out of its misery, send me a not so nice review. Either way, I'm sticking to my guns on this: No reviews. No more. Thanks ever so much! OH, and I realize that the majority of this isn't in Dean's POV, but it's needed. You'll understand if I get to continue this fun little fic!

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The bar reeked of stale beer and cigarette smoke, but she ignored it. She had a job to do. With an ominous creak the door swung open revealing faces familiar and strange alike. So many people stopped through here on their way to some bigger and brighter destination. It kept her attentive, and, with her easily bored personality, that was a good thing.

Heads turned as she strutted up to the bar, brought out of their drunken stupor by the clicking of her heels on the hardwood floor and the air of regality she seemed to radiate. It was no question they all wanted her. That's what she was counting on. She just hoped that the man that had the audacity to approach her was the one she wanted. He was there, watching her along with the rest of them, his head cocked to the side. Interest was obvious in his blue eyes, but desire? It was too soon to tell. Quickly, she broke her gaze and stared straight ahead.

Taking a seat at the bar, she nodded at the bartender and it wasn't long until a beer was placed in front of her. The bartender stayed for a moment, trying to coax a smile out of her, a little flirtation too, but she kept her attentions with the blue eyed man, and soon the bartender grew frustrated and went on to an easier target allowing her to sip the alcohol in private.

A cold wind scraped across the back of her exposed neck. She slowly turned her head in the direction of the open door and watch two men slink in. Their shoulders were dusted in snow that quickly ran into rivulets down their arms as the heat of the room permeated their skin. They were new. And they were worried. About what, she couldn't agonize with. She had bigger plans tonight.

"What's a pretty little innocent like you doing here all alone?" The voice was deep and seductive. Exactly what she wanted to hear.

She glanced over her should, and was met with a set of clear blue eyes. Perfect. "Hoping to not be alone for much longer." She lowered her voice a pitch. She wanted him close. She wanted to be able to see the freckles in those crystal eyes.

The man let his gaze travel the neckline of her black sweater. His eyes dipped low and slowly moved back up, momentarily resting on her collar bones, the base of her throat, the side of her neck, until they finally met hers again. "Looks like your hopes have reason to quail."

"Oh?" She grinned slyly. He needed to invite her to wherever he called home. That was where she needed to be.

He held out a hand. "Why don't you come with me?"

_Play,_ she reminded herself. _He won't go through with it if you don't make it worth his while._ "I don't know." She crossed her legs, making sure his attention was on the exposed flesh, "My momma always told me not to leave with a stranger."

A hint of irritation flashed across his face. He wasn't used to having his food play with him. "What are strangers but friends you haven't met yet?"

"Potential enemies." She kept a close eye on his features. It wouldn't work if she pushed him too hard.

"Come." He took her hand and easily pulled her out of her seat. "You won't regret it."

"That's not what I worry about." She stood her ground.

"Then what is it that concerns you?" His voice was a bit harsher, but still coated in a sticky sweet substance.

With her infamous grin back on her lips she put her hands on his chest and leaned close to him. "I fear," she whispered, her lips slightly grazing his ear, "that you'll regret it."

She heard him take a deep breath, and she didn't move a muscle. "You must come." He whispered back. "You must."

A laugh almost escaped her lips. She had won. "Well, when you put it like that how can I say no?" With his arm around her waist she let him lead her outside. Voices were coming from the alley. So they all were here. There wouldn't be a need to even leave the bar. It was her lucky night.

"A quick stop," he said leading her around the building. But she was expecting this.

Four faces met them as they rounded to corner to the alley. Funny, she thought there was another. As the stepped closer to the tiny coven, her escort broke his grip on her and went to stand next to the others.

"So glad you decided to join me," he said sweetly, "I hate a fight."

"Well," she said reaching for the top of her boot. Her fingers grazed cool metal and she pulled a slim blade out of the shoe. "That's just too damn bad." With one swing she had beheaded three of the five. Her blue eyed target included. The two survivors quickly realized the reality of the situation and began advancing on her. As she swung at one, the other reached up and snatched the blade from her hand. "That's mine," she growled as they backed her into a corner. Neither answered, instead identical smiles grew on their faces. In seconds a second set of teeth had appeared in both.

Suddenly, the swish of a knife blade cut through the air. And through both necks of her attackers. "No!" she cried as the two heads hit the hard ground. She glared up at the new arrivals without bothering to mask her rage. It was the two worried strangers from the bar. Not that it mattered. Strangers or no, they had easily managed to ruin everything she had worked for. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she hissed.

The two seemed taken aback. "Saving your ass it seemed like," the shorter of the two snapped.

"I had it under control." She said the words slowly. The situation was really too much. She had been working this job for weeks now, and they manage to ruin it in one swing.

"Yeah. It looked like that from our side, too." He glared right back at her.

"For your information, that was the plan!" Her voice was rising, "I needed those two alive!"

"You know what they were?" the other man asked.

She looked up. He stood at least six three with eyes and hair a dirty brown color. "Yes, and I'm assuming you did too." She glanced back at the headless corpses. They were slowly decomposing. Both would be gone by the time the sun came up. Probably right along with the remaining coven. "Damn." She muttered. Pushing past the two she headed towards her car. She needed a new plan.

"Wait," the shorter one called. "Where are you going?"

"What's it to you?" They were not helping themselves. If they wanted to stay alive they should really get out of her sight. Control was not her forte, and right now she wanted to hurt something. Desperately.

"You know you could say thank you." He followed her, "After all, we did stop them from making you the main course."

"No," she turned on her heel and came face to face with him, "Actually you didn't."

"What do you mean?" He asked not backing down.

"I just killed the head of their pathetic pack. They wouldn't have done anything to me without consulting his mate first. I needed them to take me to her. I needed to find out where the nest is. And now thanks to you, I'm probably not ever going to find out!" She knew she was yelling, and she knew it was inappropriate, but damn it all to hell if she wasn't going to murder him!

"What about your sword?" He challenged. Going in weaponless? Not smart."

"Dean," the taller one interrupted, "she wasn't going in without anything."

Dean turned to stare, "What?"

"Observant," she said. She reached down and unbuckled the belt that circled her waist. When she pulled it out of the loops of her skirt and held it up to the light, it was easy to see the jagged edge. "I'm not an idiot," she told Dean before resuming her trek.

"Who the hell are you, then?" He yelled after her.

She stopped and turned around for the last time, giving them her full attention and making sure she had theirs. "Chastity. Chastity Stone. Chase for short." She paused, waiting for a joke. None came.

The tall one eased up to her. "Sam Winchester. This is my brother Dean."

"You're the famed Winchester brothers?" She laughed, "I've got to admit, I was expecting better. I guess your father's talent wasn't genetic."

"You know our father?" Sam asked.

"Met him once. About two months ago. The man's a legend. How is he anyway?"

The question was met with obvious depression. "He died about a month ago."

"Oh." Her mood went from bad to worse. "Well," she said finally. "He was a great hunter. It happens." A sudden gust of icy wind hit the back of her legs. She shivered and resumed her path to her car.

"It does," Dean muttered under his breath. "Hey," he yelled a little louder, "Are you interested in help?"

"Dean!" Sam scolded, "What about-"

"Shut up, Sammy." The fog of his words carried to her. "So?"

Chase debated. On the one hand it would be beneficial to have help from two experienced hunters. Especially two that were spoken so highly of. But, on the heavier hand, they did cause her slight dilemma in the first place.

"Well?"

The second draft of wind made her decision. "Follow me. I'm starting tonight." Without waiting for an answer, she made her way into her car. Basking in the heat flowing through the tiny compartment, she sighed. Oh well, better to have him close if she decided to murder him. She hunted enough as it was.

XxXxX

"Why?" Sam bombarded his brother the second the car door shut behind him. "Why did you offer to help her?"

"We did mess things up for her. It's the least we could do." He groped around for his keys. He eventually found them and soon the sounds of AC/DC could be heard in the background.

"Bull. It's another girl you think you can screw around with," Sam reprimanded. "Are you forgetting that we have a case to work? Or was that skirt exactly what it took to fry what brain you have left?"

Dean peered through the thickening snow. "First of all," he replied calmly, "I don't think I can screw around with her. I know I can screw around with her. Secondly, I haven't forgotten why we're here, but until tomorrow night there won't be anyway werewolves to waste. Finally, it wasn't the skirt."

A sharp turn threw Sam against the freezing window. "Then what was it?"

Shaking his head, Dean glanced at his younger sibling. "It was everything, dude. It was everything."

XxXxX

Chase fit the old-fashioned key into its corresponding lock. "Try not to mess anything up," she told her accomplices as she flipped the light switch. The room was basked in a warm glow. She stepped through the door frame and hung her jacket neatly on its hook.

The apartment was big and open. It mimicked the style of a New York loft, just less expensive since South Carolina certainly wasn't New York. Chase quickly scanned the room for anything incriminating, and then, finding nothing but a little dust on top of the refrigerator, folded herself onto the big, green couch in the center of the room.

"Alright," she said as she unzipped the side of her thigh high boots, "Everything I know about the coven is right there," she nodded at a large bulletin board. "I've got the victims, the players, and the history. What I don't have, obviously, is the location."

The boys leafed through all the pictures and notes on the board. It took some time, but finally Dean spoke up, "There's a pattern to the death sites."

"Around the bar." Chase messaged her throbbing calves. Mental note to self, no more four inch stilettos. "I thought that might be the nest. After all, what better place for people who love night life and love to drink, but no. It didn't take long after that disappointment to find that the bar was just a hunting ground. Nothing more." She stood and stretched her arms over her head. Dean's eyes immediately snapped to her exposed midriff. "I'm going to change," she decided, "When I get back, I'll start coffee."

"Coffee?" Sam looked up from an article he was scanning.

"Yes, love. Coffee. The lovely little liquid that seems to be savior to life itself." She laughed, "You really didn't expect this thing to go by quickly, did you?" Still laughing she glided up the steps to the second story. "Because it most certainly isn't going to," she continued leaning over the balcony railing. "These aren't your average camp out in an abandon barn vamps."

"Really." Sam replied, "I haven't known any different."

"You must not get out much." She pushed off the rail and headed out of sight. Stupid boys, always thinking they know everything there is to know about everything.


	2. Going Under

**So, does Jensen have a price? Because I would be willing to pay it. **

Thank you so much for the interest! My one review was most appreciated as well as the alerts on this. So, as promised, the second chapter. Also, as previously stated. No more reviews, no more fic. Sorry, but I'm finding that's the only way to get feedback.

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Dean watched her step behind a partition in the back of the upstairs room. If he ever settled down, he was so going to own a loft. No walls, just right.

"Hey," Sam hit his shoulder. "Look." He was pointing at an article about a series of murders with a completely different motive than a bloodsucker would have. "What do these remind you of?"

"Werewolf attacks," he answered without missing a beat. "But if she's hunting vampires, then why have this?"

"I don't know. Think she was going after these on the side?" Sam continued to stare at the strip of paper like he expected it to blurt out the answer.

"Those things aren't side jobs."

"Then what? She has to know that these aren't vampire attacks. I mean, look at the picture. A vamp wouldn't rip the bodies apart. Too much waste." He looked a moment longer. "Maybe she's not a smart as you think," Sam suggested.

"Or maybe," Case's soft voice tiptoed up behind them, "She's smarter than you think she is."

Dean spun around. "Chase! I, uh, we didn't, um, hear you come down!" Damn. Way to mess things up.

"I gathered," she answered coolly. She turned and headed for the black, granite counter top that marked the kitchen area. "You know, it's not polite to talk about someone in their own home. Especially if that someone knows how to sneak up on the unsneakable." Measuring water into a pitcher, she continued. "For your information, I do know that that particular attack was a werewolf. I thought we had already decided I wasn't an idiot." She turned to coffee maker on and made her way back to the couch. "What you haven't established, are the details of that picture."

"Details?" Sam asked. "A mutilated corpse is a pretty big detail." He was slowly growing tired of the girl's endless games. And that was what she was doing. Playing some damned game that involved him growing more and more pissed. Details? How about a dead innocent. There's your detail.

"A corpse is a focus not a detail." She sighed when met with Sam's stony face. "It's a color picture. What color's missing?"

"Red." Dean realized. "There's no blood."

"And here I thought you were the dumb one."

"I got all the common sense in the family," Dean charmed. She was stunning when she was condescending.

She merely lifted her eyebrows in response. "No blood," she repeated. "Now what do we know of that wouldn't bleed?"

"'A vampire." Dean came to sit beside here.

"Very good."

"So the werewolves are killing the vampires?" Sam asked. "How does that work."

"There have been werewolves in this area for a long time, and they've never hurt anybody. They've chosen a sort of vegan diet. No human. So, naturally, it amazed me when I heard about all the mutilated bodies near their grounds. I went to investigate, saw the lack of blood, and did a little research. Vamps and werewolves are mortal enemies. And thus, I am."

Dean grinned. She was attractive and smart. He just had all the luck. "So why were they attacking each other?" He watched her rise from her seat as the beeping of the coffee maker interrupted his ogling.

"No idea." She reached for three mugs on a hanging shelf. The bottom of her blue t-shirt rose slightly, revealing a small black tattoo on her lower back. It was a pentagram.

"Interesting," Dean muttered.

"What is?" Chase set down the three steaming mugs on an ornate mahogany table along with cream and sugar.

"You have a tattoo."

A playful grin turned up the corners of her lips. "I have three."

Dean glanced at his brother. Sam was still scanning through the articles seemingly unaware of the other people in the room. Good. "And where would the other two be?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

"One is between my shoulder blades," she whispered right back. She leaned a little closer to him, egging him on.

"The other?"

A quiet giggle escaped her perfect lips. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Fuck yes, he wanted to know. She was only an inch away from him and he could smell her perfume. Vanilla. Hell, if Sam wasn't in the room he would throw her down on the couch and start looking for it right now. It wouldn't even take that much. If Sam would just close his eyes for a little while…Dean shook his head. How the hell did she get into it?

She giggled again and leaned away. Pouring sugar into her coffee she looked up at Sam. "Find anything interesting?"

"Hmm?" Sam turned around. "Oh. Yeah. All these down the side. That's why we're here. We thought that humans were being slaughtered. Vampires didn't even cross our minds."

"Well, start thinking about them. They're the problem."

"Why?"

"These werewolves have been dormant, so to speak, for such a long time. I'm guessing vampire Jimmy pissed off werewolf Susie, and now the others are sorting it out." She leaned her head back and smiled. "Funny metaphor."

Admiring the elegant curve of her throat, Dean asked. "So why are you working so hard to get into a nest?"

She didn't turn to look at him. Instead her gaze stayed on the ceiling. "If I can get in I'll have a better shot at killing whatever vamps are left. It's my way to rid the earth of all evil." Her smile increased at the sentiment.

"Rid the world of all evil?" Dean mocked.

"A girl's got to have goals, Winchester," she replied quietly. "She's just got to."

X

Chase looked up from her laptop. Sam was passed out on the couch and Dean was asleep in the overstuffed chair directly across from it. They had been working for six hours when Dean had crashed, and only another passed before the younger followed suit. She had to give it to them. They gave a hunt everything they had.

She leaned back in her cream colored desk chair. Sam looked so innocent while he was sleeping, and it would have been adorable if he hadn't been an accessory to her bad night. Quite the opposite, his brother portrayed anything but innocence. Dean probably thought he had charmed her way into her heart, or, at the very least, her faded jeans, but she had caught on to his game. Little did he know, she could play it better. Besides, she knew better than to get involved with a hunter. She had learned that lesson long ago.

"Good night, boys," she whispered shutting down her computer and pushing the chair under the desk. She padded across the hardwood floor and turned the lights off, making sure to leave a small lamp on so she could find her way up the steep stairs. Before she climbed to her bed, she threw a last glance over her shoulder. Sam was completely in the dark, but the dim light caused shadows to play across Dean's face. It was a shame she wouldn't let herself become involved with anybody. He was her definite favorite out of every guy she had met recently. More than that, he was probably exactly what she needed. Shaking the thought out of her head, she rapidly scaled the steps. Stripping off her jeans, Chase climbed into her comfortable bed and wrapped the duvet securely around her body. It was freezing. She hated winter. Damn snow.

"_Chase, it'll only be a day or two." The blonde boy beside her tried to console. _

"_Do you have to go?" She held back tears. Crying would get her nowhere. _

"_Yes." He laughed a little. "You know I wouldn't go if they didn't need me. Besides, didn't you once tell me that this relationship wouldn't work if I was around all the time?"_

"_I don't recall that, no." She pouted. _

_He sighed. "Chastity. Please, don't do this." He slid a hand to her back. "I'll be back before you know it." He placed a light kiss on her cheek. _

_Drastic times called for drastic measures. She turned her head and caught his lips with hers. Her tongue demanded to meet with his, and before long she had him pinned under her. As she reached down for the buckle on his belt, she felt his hand snake around her wrist._

"_Uh-uh. I'll never get out of here if you do that." He kissed her one last time and climbed off the comforter. "I'll be back by Friday at the latest." He grabbed his black bag from the floor and headed outside._

"_Hey!" she called, chasing after him._

"_Yeah?" he paused with his hand on the door knob. _

"_Don't die, okay?"_

_He smiled. "I love you too, Chase." _

XxXxX

Dean's eyes snapped open. Where was he? Glancing around, he noticed three empty coffee mugs and a huge bulletin. Oh. Chase. He relaxed. How could he have forgotten about the night that easily? He had only been dreaming of her for the past who knows how many hours. With a little more investigation he found his brother on the couch and a clock that glowed five thirty. Closing his eyes again he beckoned more sleep, but the chair was more uncomfortable than a motel bed. If that was even possible. A sudden crash brought him out of the chair. He sprinted upstairs and saw Chase in the floor. She was surrounded by blue and green glass. He took a step towards her and heard something crunch under his feet. He looked down and saw the scattered remains of what used to be roses.

XxXxX

"Shit," Chase mumbled as soon as she realized what had happened. Another night, another nightmare. And this one had caused her to attempt suicide. She noted the pain tingling in her left arm and right hand as well as in her left side. It looked like the tangled sheets had protected the rest of her body. Slowly, she tried to disentangle herself from the cotton, but a searing pain in her left leg forced her to stop. Looking down she noticed a red stain start to spread through the blankets. So much for those sheets.

"Here. Let me help."

She looked up into the face of none other than Dean. Great. Could this possible get any worse. He slid his arms under her and swept her off the ground. Okay, it could get worse. Not only was she incapable of defeating a set of sheets, but she actually liked the feeling of being in his arms. It was safe, and she hadn't felt that since…no. She had never felt that.

"Looks like the fight didn't go your way," he tried to joke.

"Bathroom's there." She pointed to a green door. This wasn't a time for jokes.

Still carrying her, Dean managed to flip on the light switch. For a second, his eyes caught hers in the mirror and his forehead wrinkled.

"What?" she demanded.

"Nothing," he replied a second later and grabbed the first aid kit that was sitting on the edge of the vanity.

Her teeth found the comforting feel of her bottom lip. She knew what he just saw. Her eyes were probably a shade lighter…and a little less human. Damn timing. She was amazed he hadn't said anything.

"This will be easier if you're sitting down." He interrupted her current worry and caused a whole new one to take place.

"What will?" A flurry of butterflies erupted in her stomach.

"Getting all that glass out of you."

And the night went down another notch. Glorious. She want to deal with blood. Or the thought of digging something out of her skin.

Dean must have felt her nerves. "Relax, I'm a pro at this. You wouldn't believe the stuff that's gotten stuck in me."

"Not helping," she mumbled.

He laughed, "Sorry." He went around to the side of her bed that wasn't protected by a layer of glass and gently set her down. He reached across her and flipped on a light. "Wow," he said before catching himself.

Chase looked at her arm. "Shit," she said again. The whole damn vase must have been lodged in it. Her right hand didn't seem as bad, nor did, according to Dean, her side.

"You mind getting a little blood on your bed?" Dean asked eyeing the bloodied sheet that covered her.

"They're already ruined." She attempted to unwrap the sheet from around her, but it seemed impossible. She let loose a frustrated sigh.

"Here." In one swift move he had pulled the sheet from around her. "Um…"

Chase shut her eyes. Rock bottom was a new experience for her. Thanks to the numbing pain in her arm, she had forgotten that under the sheet was nothing but a pair of pink and blue laced panties. "Just tell me how bad my leg is, Dean," she commanded.

He knelt down, "Well, it could be worse. There's no glass in it, but some of these cuts are going to need stitches."

"A hospital. Glorious."

"Sam can do it. He normally does it for us. If you want." Dean was still examining her leg.

Chase nodded.

"He can probably pull those out a little less painfully than me, too." Dean stood, "I'll be right back. You know, with Sam. Not that I'm complaining or anything, but…Sam…"

"Thanks," she replied meaningfully. Maybe she wouldn't kill him. He was kind of making up for the scene at the bar. As soon as he disappeared from sight, she rummaged around her dresser for a pair of cloth shorts. Her hand closed around grey ones, and, without putting weight on her injured leg or the use of her left arm, she managed to pull them on. When the near impossible task was accomplished, she hopped over to the mirror over her vanity. Thank goodness her eyes were back to their normal hazel. She was sitting back on the bed when Dean and Sam came up the steps.

"How'd you manage this?" Sam asked while inspecting her arm.

"I fell."

"You fell."

"I kind of brought a vase down with me."

Sam nodded, "That explains it." He rummaged through his kit for something to stop the bleeding on her leg. Much to her displeasure, it was, in fact, a needle. A big one. She cringed.

"I've got to get this bleeding stopped. From the looks of the blankets, you've lost a lot."

"Who really needs blood, though? I mean, if you really think about it, it's sort of superfluous."

"You not getting out of this one," Dean said sternly. He sat next to her and held out his hand, "Squeeze as hard as you want. You won't hurt me." He grinned cockily.

She glared at him. He was dead. So dead. "Fuck!" she screamed as a sudden burning sensation flew up her calf.

"I meant to squeeze my hand not me," Dean said into her ear.

"What?" she turned her head and came face to face with him. She had jumped into his lap, and both of her arms had gone around his neck.

"That was just antibiotic, Chase, and I'm going to have to do it one more time."

"You can't be-" she was cut short by the sizzling on her leg again. She buried her face into Dean's should to hold back her scream.

"You don't deal well with pain, do you?" Dean asked.

Her face stayed buried. "No. I tend to try and avoid it."

"But you're a hunter."

"I only go after vampires, and I'm pretty good with- damn!"

"Sorry," Sam said, "I thought I'd be better if I didn't tell you I was starting."

"Go on," Dean loosened her grip on his neck. "You're good with what?"

"Machetes. And lighters. This is probably the worst I've ever been hurt."

"Lighters?"

"Yeah. If you set them on fire, they die. It's just slower than beheading them." She was grateful that Dean was trying to keep her mind off the painful sensation of her skin being pulled back together. Really grateful.

"I didn't know that."

"Now you do." She cringed as Sam started on a new cut. "Next time, let me bleed to death."

"Not a chance."

She felt Dean's laugh vibrate in his chest. He had a nice laugh. "Why?"

"He's almost done."

"I am done." Sam stood up as Chase let go of Dean. "It wasn't too bad. You probably won't have a scar." He glanced at her side. "Let's do that next."

"You mean more stitches?" Her eyes grew wide.

"Nah. It just needs to be cleaned up and covered."

Dean held out his hand again, "That means antibiotic."

"I hate you both." She grabbed Dean's hand. When the cold liquid touched her side she found herself, once again, crawling up Dean's front.

"I know you like me, Chase, but please. Not with Sammy in the room!"

"You're dead. Do you realize that?" She mumbled under her breath. The pain was eased when Sam place a large gauze pad over the wound and taped it in place.

"You're arm's going to take a little longer," Sam observed, "But I don't think any of these went deep enough for stitches. Your arm will have to be wrapped up, though."

"Fine." She settled herself in Dean's lap. "Just do it."

"You're not even going to attempt to get off me?"

"Nope." She held out her arm to Sam and buried her head back in his shoulder. "I'll just be right back."

"Suits me." Dean wrapped an arm around her, anchoring her in place. It was a good thing he did because as Sam started pulling out chards of glass, she started jumping. "Just relax, Chase."

"Easy for you to say."

He sighed. "Just try."

And she did. She really did try to listen to him, and breath, and count to ten, and hum "Mary had a little lamb," and all that other crap someone's supposed to do to calm down. But when someone's digging around inside your arm, all that goes out the window. "Fuck," she whimpered.

"This is a total turn from the girl ready to rip my throat out outside the bar," Dean commented. But, nonetheless, the tightened his grip around her.

She didn't answer. Instead she attempted to take deep breaths, but every time Sam pulled, she cringed and had to start the process all over again.

"Done," Sam finally said.

"You can let go now, Chase." Dean told her.

"I know." She continued holding on.

Carefully, Dean separated her from him and sat her alone on her bed. "Where's your broom?" he asked.

Chase eyed her bandages. "Closet under the stairs."

"I'll get it." Sam walked off.

"Do I remind you of a mummy?" Chase asked Dean, "Because I remind me of a mummy."

"Here," Sam handed Dean the broom. "Chase, do you have any soda? And something sugary you can eat?"

"Um. There's coke in the fridge. And chocolate chip cookies somewhere."

Sam left again.

"Why was he asking that?"

"When you lose blood you get sugar." Dean shrugged, "There's some medical reason. Who knows."

"It's your blood sugar level. How had is it to make that connection?" Sam came back up with a cold, red can in his hand. "Drink up."

"Do you think mummies are real. They're like zombies, I guess. Are those real?" Chase sipped her drink and looked up at the brothers expectantly.

"I think the loss of blood has made you a little crazy," Dean commented. "But no. No zombies. I haven't been to Egypt though, so I can't guarantee the mummies."

"God, I hated that movie." She shut her eyes. Suddenly she was incredibly exhausted. She fought to open her eyes again only to find Dean staring at her. "I think I'm going to go back to sleep," she said with a small yawn.

Dean nodded, "You might try that."

XxXxX

Cleaning up a simple vase took a lot longer than he would have thought. Maybe it was because he couldn't clean. He just couldn't do it.

"I think we should check into a motel," Sam said putting the broom back in it's place. "We really shouldn't be here."

"Dude, it's a free room." Dean didn't want to leave, not just yet.

"It just feels wrong. I mean, she's up there," he glanced up at the second story. Chase's bed was in plain view, and so, currently, was she. "There's not even a door or anything. It just seems like we're intruding."

"She would have said something if she really cared." Dean shrugged, "I say we go with it."

Sam shook his head, "I don't like it."

"Fine," Dean grudgingly held out the keys to his baby. "Go get a room. Call me and tell me where it is, and I'll be there later."

"You're going to stay?"

"Until she wakes up. I don't want her to think we're ditching her or anything."

"So we leave her a number."

"Sammy, just go. I'm staying here." He crossed his arms.

"It's Sam." He took the keys and headed for the door, "Don't do anything dumb. You know, if you can help it."

"Yes, mother," he hissed at Sam's retreating back.


	3. Hot Blooded

**-Insert disclaimer here-**

Was it just me, or did a possessed Sammy work for anybody else?

Much thanks for the reviews and to everyone who put this story on alert! Keep it up and you just might get the whole thing!! I know you're excited, don't deny it.

And yes, I know this is a short chapter. You have my word that the next one will be longer. Not to mention chalk full of awesome little suprises...mmhmm.

* * *

She woke up hungry. And not for waffles.

Rolling out of bed, she felt a stiffness in her side and her leg. Oh yeah, the stitches. She easily pulled off the bandage covering her side, and was unsurprised to find the gash had already healed. Her arm was almost good as new, too, and her leg should be fine by this afternoon. She was going to have to do something about those stitches. Frustrated with herself, she decided she would just let them take care of themselves. It wasn't going to be that long, anyway.

As quietly as possible, Chase changed into a pair of black, stretch jeans, and a fitted long sleeved shirt. She pulled on her boots and soundlessly crept down the stairs. Dean was passed out on the couch and his brother was nowhere to be found. He looked dead. Good, he would be out for a while. Jotting a quick note of a false coffee run, she unbolted the door and took off down the dim hall once it had shut behind her.

It didn't take long to reach her car and drive to a large game preserve that was located on the edge of the city. Parking her car in the lot reserved for hikers and campers, Chase set off up the worn path that indicated a safe route through the territory, but, about half a mile into the hike, she hastily snuck into the trees. Safety wasn't her main concern; at least not from the animals. A few more strides brought her to a remote area well hidden by large boulders and surrounded by thick foliage. She was sure nobody could see her.

She slipped out of her hiking boots as well as her jacket. Taking a deep breath, Chastity let her instincts take hold, and she soon felt the beginning of her weekly metamorphous. Black fur rippled down her back merging with her skintight clothing and quickly engulfing her skin. She felt her bones contorting until most had shrunk and some had disappeared or changed shape. The very last change was the greatest. Her senses increased until she lost herself in the bliss of it all.

The slender, black wolf eagerly sniffed the breeze before loping out of sight.

XxXxX

A shrill ring assaulted Dean's dreams and caused him to meet the cream colored carpet with a quiet thud. He groaned, and reached up to grab his phone from the table. "What?" he said thoroughly annoyed.

"You coming to the motel anytime soon?" Sam's voice was slightly amused.

"I don't know." Dean rolled over onto his back and stared up at the high ceiling.

"You might want to. I've got another attack." There was a long pause. "Well…sort of an attack anyway."

With a grunt, Dean pushed himself into a sitting position. "What do you mean?"

"It happened a few hours ago. And it wasn't a human."

"What was it?"

"Deer."

"A deer?" Dean repeated. "You do know that almost every freaking animal with teeth will attack a deer, right?"

"I didn't say _a _deer, Dean. I said deer. As in plural."

"As in how many?"

"Seven."

Dean rubbed his forehead. Damn. "How long ago?"

"About three hours."

The clock that sat on the small table claimed eleven. What in the world would attack seven deer at eight in the morning? "I don't know, Sammy, this doesn't really sound like what we're looking for."

"They were ripped apart. To shreds, even, according to the reports. We should check it out."

Dean hesitated. He didn't hear Chase moving around, so maybe she would sleep until he got back. "Where is it?"

"The game preserve. About three miles from where you are."

"I'll be there in five." Dean snapped his phone shut, his mind already on Chase and off the mass deer murder. He wondered how she was. Last night had to be pretty rough on her and him too for that matter. He laughed at himself. He could have sworn her eyes were changing colors all night last night, but it had to be because he was exhausted from the day's drive. Peoples' eyes didn't just randomly change shades, after all. Even if a person was characteristically unexplainable.

The Impala was waiting in the parking lot when Dean arrived. Sam was leaning against the drive side door with an annoying smirk on his face and his eyes locked on a blue Honda civic.

"What are you so happy about?" Dean muttered darkly.

Sam slowly looked at him, immediately dropping the smirk, and replied, "Doesn't this car look familiar to you?"

Giving the vehicle a once over, he shrugged. "It looks like a car. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"It's Chase's car."

"No, it's not." Dean immediately refuted.

"Yes. It's got the same sticker on the bumper," Sam defended. He was pointing at a small silver bumper sticker that resembled claw marks. "I noticed it last night."

"What would she be doing here?" Dean asked. "She doesn't exactly strike me as the outdoorsy type."

"I don't know. Point is it's her car."

"Like hell it is."

"So where is she?"

"Getting coffee. There was a note."

Sam just rolled his eyes. "You're so whipped, and you don't even know it!"

"Let's just check out this deer homicide you pulled up, geek boy." Dean led the way into the forest without even glancing at the path. Sam was wrong. If Chase was here, which she wasn't, it had to be for the same reason they were. She was a hunter. A very specific one, too.

"Dean." Sam had stopped a few steps behind his older brother. He was crouched on the ground with his fingers spread against the damp earth. "Look."

Hesitantly stepping over where Sam knelt, Dean noticed an imprint in the ground. "What is it?"

"Wolf print. And a pretty big one." Sam stood and surveyed the area. "This must be where they come to hunt."

"Who?" Dean knelt down where Sam had been.

"The werewolf pack that's here. Chase said they didn't hunt humans, so they must eat animals. And this is the only place for something like that."

"This is fresh," he stood again, "And not that big."

Sam wasn't listening. "Do you think it was the pack? There might be enough of them to have to kill that many deer."

"Sammy, I know you're big bad Stanford boy, and not a walking farmer's almanac, but you're not seriously asking me if a werewolf left this recently. And I mean recently."

"Why shouldn't I be? That's what we're here for after all."

Dean shook his head and continued the hike through the thick leaves, "It wasn't a full moon last night, genius."

It took a second for Sam's footfalls to echo behind Dean. "Oh. Yeah."

"Yeah," Dean mumbled navigating around the roots and puddles of melted snow that seemed to cover the ground.

The two walked in a heavy silence under a gray sky. The wind whipped against their faces and seemed to find every hole in the fabric of their clothing, and soon the Winchesters were nearly frozen. Dean was focused on the ground, focused on stepping one foot in front of the other, and almost fell from the shove his brother gave him.

"What the-"

Sam held a finger to his lips and pointed past his brother.

Turning around as silently as possible, Dean laid eyes on a majestic, black wolf. It was standing statue-like against the white backdrop of a slight hill, and its amber eyes were locked on the boys. Slowly, the animal took a step forward. Dean pulled out the pistol from the waistband of his jeans and leveled it with the wolf's head. The animal stopped, like it knew what the heavy iron could do, and slowly started to back up.

"That's right, bitch," Dean whispered still holding the gun, "Keep moving."

The wolf regarded him a moment more before turning and taking off into the thick trees.

"Dean."

"What now?" Dean looked where Sam's eyes were locked and felt a sick churning in the pit of his stomach. Bones of every shape and size were scattered around, and even a few still decomposing carcasses. "It's worse than a grave yard."

XxXxX

Chase laced up her boots as quickly as possible. They were here. She jumped off the ground and ran for the marked path. They weren't supposed to be here. Running down the familiar trail she started thinking of excuses to why she was in the preserve. Nature lover? No, they would see straight through that one. Needed the exercise? She almost laughed at that one. Please. She leaned against the blue hood of her car to think. Meeting someone? No. Caught scent of a vampire? Not in broad daylight…

"Chase!" Dean yelled her name from the foot of the trees, "Come to check out the pile of rot?"

Pile of rot? What was he talking about? "Excuse me?" Chase shifted her weight.

"The dead deer. Sammy here thought it might be something worth checking out."

"It's Sam," the younger stressed, "And it wasn't like I knew normal wolves lived in there."

"Oh," A weight lifted off Chase's shoulders. "The bone yard."

"Sounds like a great place for after dinner drinks," Dean joked.

Chase laughed, "Yeah. It's weird, huh?" She opened the door of her car. "You all let me know if you find anything on a Vampire nest." She slid into the leather seat.

"Where are you going?" Dean grabbed her door before she could pull it closed.

"I've got things to do tonight."

"Like?" He persisted.

Chase exhaled noisily and hoped he got the hint. "Stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" He jerked his hand away just in time.

The car door slammed with a satisfying bang, and Chase was only somewhat disappointed his fingers weren't in the way. "Important stuff," she muttered pulling away.

Once the black car was out of sight Chase let herself relax a little. Tonight was the full moon. Tonight she had to pretend an obligation to her pack. The same pack she had pretended to serve for the past fifty years.


	4. I Fail To Understand

"Tell me again why we're here?" Sam whispered as he maneuvered himself behind a large hedge.

"You said it yourself. We're here for werewolves." Dean crouched beside him. A man was pacing back and forth while a pale, blonde woman yelled at him. Something had obviously back fired on the group.

Sam watched the dramatics play out before them. "But Chase said that it wasn't the werewolves causing the problem."

"I know what she said."

"Then why are we here?"

With a sigh he turned to face the complaints. "I want to be sure that they're not the ones causing the problems. This no human diet sounds shady to me."

Sam nodded his agreement. They watched the two werewolves argue until Sam spoke up again. "So, have you heard from Chase?"

"What? No." Dean shook his head and tried to concentrate on what the woman was saying.

"Really. You haven't called her or anything?"

"No, Sammy, why are you asking?" Did he just hear something about a new hunt come out of the guy's mouth?

"Just wondering."

Dean ignored him and continued to listen. The woman wanted a challenge. A new challenge. Something was getting too predictable and easy, but the man didn't agree. He must be the head of the pack. They continued to argue until a new appearance caused them both to straighten up. A new male strode in. He carried his power like a scepter and the two bickerers knelt down and bowed their heads.

So this was the top dog. Dean smiled a little. Aside from the stench of control, the guy didn't look like much.

"What's he saying?"

Dean shot a look at his little brother, and went back to his undercover work. What was he saying? Something about rights and life. Dean started to move closer. Suddenly, the leader looked up, alert, and said something to the other two who scampered away. Frowning Dean kept moving forward.

"Um…Dean?" Sam said behind him.

"Shut-up or they'll find us." Dean crept forward.

"Dean, they already have."

Dean spun around and saw the two fighters leering behind them.

"Well, well, well," the woman said in a soft-as-ash voice, "Looks like I get my wish after all."

"The Gods must love you, Desiree." The man leered at the brothers.

"They must." She laughed, and the sound resonated in Dean's ears. "Wanna come with me, baby?" She asked him.

"Sorry," Dean jerked away from her grasp, "I don't think you're my type."

The man chuckled and twisted Sam's arm. "Don't hurt him, Des."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Desiree shook out her blonde hair, "We're gonna have so much fun." With a wicked smile she jerked Dean to his feet.

The brothers were led into the same clearing they had been watching for the past hour. Watching as they were forced on their knees, the leader sauntered over. "Desiree, my dear, you didn't plan this did you?"

"No, Damien." She wasn't so cocky anymore.

"Good, girl." Damien knelt down so he was face to face with the boys. "It's really a shame you two decided to crash our little party." He gestured to the rest of the pack that had assembled.

"You know what they say," Dean retorted, "a party isn't a party until it's broken."

"I completely agree." Damien stood again and sauntered to the middle of the group. "We had been doing so well. No human in sixty some years is a massive accomplishment. But, sometimes we need to go great lengths to keep a secret." He suddenly looked behind them. "You're late." The words made the hair on the back of Dean's neck stand on end.

"My apologies."

Dean's head snapped up. The voice was so familiar. He tried to turn around, but the man's hold was a lot stronger then he would have thought. Damn werewolves.

"It's of no consequence." Damien stepped past the brothers to the new arrival, "We've just been drooling over a set of intruders."

"Intruders? How did-" The voice stopped suddenly. "What are you planning?"

Damien's laugh was cold, "You know the rules. We keep our existence a secret at all costs. Tonight we get a slight treat." The pack's laughter followed the statement.

"But they're humans."

"If you've learned nothing from us my dear, please remember this: only the strong survive. Now," he motioned for Desiree and the other man to let Dean and Sam stand, "put the tall one away for now. I don't like teams." He watched as Sam was led out of sight.

"You fu-" Dean started to say.

"Ah-ah." Damien grinned, "Anger will not help you right now."

"You filthy dog!" Dean struggled against Desiree's hold, "You no good, son of a bitch-"

Damien held up a hand to silence the rant. "The rules are simple. Make it to the clearing in the middle of the forest, and you live." He slid a knife from his belt.

"My pet," he gestured for the voice to step forward, "Do tell him good luck."

Still attempting to break Desiree's strong grip, Dena watched a tall, cloaked figure glide next to Damien.

"Go on." Damien lightly pushed the person forward.

The woman's high heels clicked out an eternity as she moved forward. She paused directly in front of him, and Dean heard her take a deep breath before she slid the hood back from her face.

His jaw dropped. Chase was biting her scarlet bottom lip, and her kohl rimmed eyes refused to meet his face.

"Chastity, don't keep us waiting."

She pushed a brunette curl behind her ear.

"Chastity." Damien's voice was no longer light. She cringed as the sound waves hit her.

"Luck," she murmured kissing his cheek. She moved her head to whisper in his other ear, "Stay away from the clearing. Head for the road. Meet me at my apartment," and place a red kiss on his other cheek. As she pulled away she whispered again, "I'll get Sam. Don't look back."

Dean glared at her. Her curls had fallen from the security of her ears and were waving in the slight wind.

"Lovely." Damien grabbed his arm and trailed the knife through his skin. Blood oozed from the fresh gash and Dean watched as the pack's eyes went form dark to a sickening yellow color. "Run while you can," Damien taunted.

Desiree released him, and with a last look at Chase, Dean took off toward the road.

XxXxX

She watched the pack take off after giving Dean a slight head start. They couldn't catch him…wouldn't catch him…please, don't let him look back! Thoughts rambled of their own accord in Chase's mind. Please, God, don't let him look back.

"Coming?" Damien turned to her.

"No."

Damien sighed. "Pity." He turned and ran after the pack.

Chase made sure he was out of sight and hearing until she cautiously made her way to Sam. Turner had tied him to a steel rod that stuck out of the ground. They normally kept animals tied here. She frowned at the irony. "Sam, I need you to scream."

"What?" His eyes didn't trust her anymore. Not as if he had trusted her in the beginning.

"Please, Sam," she begged, "If you want to live. Please."

He shook his head. "What can you do?"

The phrase 'if looks could kill' briefly crossed her mind. "Nothing unless you let me. You want to get out? Want to see Dean again?"

"They're going to kill him." His glance finally broke and he hung his head.

"No. They won't catch him, Sam, he'll be fine."

"How do you know?"

Chase knelt down and put a hand under his chin. Raising his face to look in his eyes she explained, "He has too much to live for to go out like that." She released his face and stood. "Now, please, scream."

After a second's hesitation, he did. She grinned at the volume and emotion in his voice while quickly cutting the rope that held him. "Follow me." Cutting through a slight expanse of forest, Chase led Sam to her car.

"What about Dean?" Sam started to turn back.

"No!" Chase grabbed his arm, "He'll either be there or meet us there. He'll be fine. I swear." She shoved him in the car and shut the door. "He'll be fine," she said again to herself.

XxXxX

Dean ran. He ran past trees, and mildewed leaves, and streams, and rocks, and finally across a river of asphalt. He could hear them until the end. They never got any closer to him, almost like they knew he would wear out and become an easy kill. _No chance,_ he kept saying to himself, _keep going. They have no chance. _

He didn't know if he'd make it to the road, didn't know if he would make it to his car, didn't know if they would catch him. But he kept running. Chase wouldn't let him die. He knew she wouldn't…she couldn't.

His car was right where he left it. The black paint just waiting for his return. He could still see the yellow eyes in the trees when he slammed the door, and he knew they would keep hunting him. As long as there was a full moon they would keep hunting him. One week of hiding. Or, better yet, a week of target practice. He liked the second idea.

The Impala screeched to a halt in the parking lot of Chase's apartment complex. He slammed the door and sprinted up the three flights of stairs to her loft. Without bothering with the formality of knocking, he pushed open the door and ran into his brother.

"Dean!" Sam said, relief evident in his voice. "I never thought I'd be this happy to see you!"

"Same here." Dean muttered looking around.

"Are you alright? What happened?" Sam's inquisitive nature began to take hold. "Did they ever catch up to you? Did you have anything on you?"

"Enough with the interrogation, Sammy." He glanced at his brother's tight face. "Take it easy. I'm okay. You're okay. That bitch Chase, though, is about to die!" He yelled the last part hoping she would appear.

"She can't hear you," despite his worries a small smile tugged at Sam's face, "She's in the shower."

"Figures. I might die, and she's worried about being dirty." He sighed, "Sam, go…read or something."

"I'm not ten, Dean."

"Yeah…well…"

Sam shook his head at his brother's idiocy. "She doesn't have wireless here. The building's lobby does, though. I'll be there for awhile. Maybe I can find something to help with this." He grabbed his silver laptop and headed out the door.

As soon as it shut behind him, Dean scaled the steps to Chase's small bathroom, and, met with a closed door, shook the handle. It was locked. He felt along the top of the door frame and found the key he expected. When he opened the door, a warm, vanilla scented fog hit him in the face.

"Dean, the point of a locked door is to ensure privacy." Chase's voice carried above the tap of the water hitting the ceramic shower.

He glared at the black shower curtain, "Some people don't deserve privacy. You know, like the ones who stab you in the back?"

"Are you implying that I've deceived you in some way?" The curtain rippled as she moved.

"You could say that." Dean leaned against the wall and crossed his arms on his chest.

"How so?"

He shook his head in amazement. The bitch was playing with him just like he had seen her do with the vampire when he and Sam entered the bar. "You might have mentioned that you're a fucking werewolf." He thought he heard her sigh, but he couldn't be sure.

"Dean, what time is it?"

He glanced at his watch, "Eleven thirty."

"And what kind of moon is out tonight?"

"Full." Where was she going with this?

"Mmhmm. And what do werewolves look like at eleven thirty at night during a full moon?"

"Like wolves." Was there a point to her questions?

The room suddenly grew silent. Chase had turned off the water, and he watched her wet arm reach for the grey towel that hung on a hook adjacent to the shower. Seconds later, the curtain was pulled back and Chase stepped out. "And what do I look like to you?"

She really didn't want him to answer that. Her hair hung in dripping tendrils over her shoulders and down her back, and the towel, though fixed firmly around her, hung attractively on her frame. Complete with a few beads of water scattered across her shoulders she was straight out of one of Dean's fantasies. One of his top three fantasies. Damn it.

"Not a wolf," she answered for him. She roughly shoved her way past him, and the jolt roused Dean from his dream.

"Then why were you with them? Are you so damn special that they won't kill you for knowing their secret?" he asked following her into the open bedroom. She paused momentarily, giving Dean the perfect view of a second tattoo. It was a pistol with the phrase "_No me tangare_" written below it. Don't touch me. A warning. Oh hell.

"Actually, yeah, I am." She fumbled around in a drawer and pulled out a pair of blue pajama bottoms and a grey tank top.

"The fuck you are." He grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. "You might as well tell me what flavor of evil you are now because it won't be long until I find out myself."

"Flavor of evil?" She snickered, "And what do you think you'll be able to do when I tell you? Kill me?"

"If I have to."

She gazed at his serious expression, and finally gave Dean the information he wanted. "Loup-garou."

"Lou what?"

"Loup-garou," she repeated slowly, "Ever heard of it?"

He stared at her.

"So you haven't." She jerked her arm out of his grasp and backed up a step. "I suppose you could call us werewolves, but that would be the simplest of terms. We're more like…shifters," she paused as if searching for the rest of her explanation, "No. Not shifters."

"Just explain it. Pretend I don't know anything about shifters, werewolves, or whatever," Dean demanded. He crossed his arms again as if they could be a shield against the emotion radiating off of Chase. She was angry, but not enough to make it obvious.

"I'm half wolf, half human. I don't have to have a full moon to become a wolf. I can change at will. I can control it. I'm part of the werewolf pack to observe them, possibly protect others from their actions, but mainly to get rid of the blood sucking filth that inhabits this city."

"But you hunt with them," Dean stepped closer to her again, "You kill with them!"

"No!" The force of her comment pushed Dean back. She advanced towards him and he noticed the predatory look in her eyes.

"You're just as guilty as they are!" Dean convicted, "You've got just as much blood on your hands as they do."

"It's not the kill I live for." Her voice was low, menacing.

"What then. What do you, Chastity Stone the Loup-garou, live for?"

Fuck you, Dean Winchester. Fuck you." She tightened the grip on her clothes and made for the haze filled bathroom.

"Convince me that you're not like them!" Dean yelled at her back. She stopped, and he watched the tension tighten her back.

She slowly turned back around, "I don't live for the kill, I never have."

"Then why do you do it? You can obviously remain human if you want."

She stalked closer, "I live for the freedom of the hunt." Chase set her clothes down on the table beside her bed, and positioned herself directly in front of him. "You have no idea the power that comes with the change. It's intoxicating. The senses. The raw strength. It's an escape from myself. And then, to be presented with a challenge," she placed a hand on his chest, "it's a great big game to the animal, and so it's a great big game to me. And they run," a light laugh escaped from a distant memory, "They try so hard to get away, but they can't. They're not fast enough."

Dean knew she wasn't fully with him anymore, that she was lost in whatever feeling she was trying to explain. But he didn't care. He was spellbound by the way her words were strung together, how they sounded imbedded with her voice, and where her hand was so damn hot on his skin. He could feel it through the thin fabric of his shirt, and fuck if she wasn't good at this.

"You know they're yours, though, when they look back," she continued. "Then they trip, fall, and before they know it," a slight push on his shoulder sent him toppling back onto the floor, "you're on top of them."

So this is what it was like to look into the eyes of a natural born killer. Dean would never admit it, but he was terrified of the girl leaning over him. He wanted to tell her to stop, that he believed her, but something wouldn't let him. Maybe it was a sick desire for death, or maybe it was a sick desire for her. Either way, he didn't say a word.

She took a deep breath and leaned close enough to whisper, "Their heart's beating so fast, the blood is racing through the veins, and fear is practically dripping form every pore. It's better than the best drug. But you've got to keep in mind that all living things can die from fear. You've got to remember that they won't last too long like that, but it's so hard to tear yourself away from the simple smell!"

Her mouth moved against his neck, and he wasn't sure that she wouldn't kill him.

"You do it, though. One last breath, and you take," she pressed her lips to the vein on the side of his neck, "what's," her mouth moved to his jaw, "yours." Her face hovered over his, "But the whole time, you wish the chase had lasted longer."

No. He was ready for the chase to be over. He slipped a hand behind her head and brought her face down to meet his. She relaxed into the kiss, not putting up a fight when he deepened it, or even protesting when their positions were switched and he was above her. If he had been thinking he would have questioned her willingness, but he wasn't thinking, and he didn't care. The important things were her lips on his, his skin on hers, and the damned towel that had to come off. In an attempt, he boldly started to slide his hand up her leg.

Instantly, her arms were no longer around him, and instead of pulling him closer her hands were pushing him off of. She scrambled up from the floor. "You can stay until sunrise," she said between breaths, "but after that I want you out of my apartment, and out of my town." With that said she grabbed her clothes and stormed towards her walk in closet. "And, just so you know," she said before closing the door, "I've never killed a human."

He laid on the ground a moment longer, trying to figure out what just happened.. He had…and she just…shit. He pushed himself up and headed for the bathroom. He needed a shower.

When he stepped into the small, neat room he let out a string of curses. The tiles still smelled like her.

XxXxX

Chase revealed in the darkness of her closet. Here, she could see him, smell him, or taste him; as bad as the animal in her wanted to. She quickly changed into her pajamas, and, upon hearing the water start up again, stepped out of the space.

She was exhausted. Her hunt this morning and reliving it tonight was all she could take when her bed looked so inviting. Eagerly, she closed the distance between herself and the beckoning mattress and collapsed into the soft blankets. She was so exhausted.

"_We've got 'em!" Desiree squealed. Turner grabbed her around the waist._

"_Finally," he said, "Six months of hunting these bastards down, and now we've got them cornered." The rest of the pack nodded in agreement, and the affirmation was all Turner needed to continue. "They think they've disappeared, that the rumors of extinction could fool us!" He laughed maliciously, "But they were wrong. And tonight we'll rid what we can of the useless species!" His speech was met by cheers. _

_Damien stood, and the crowd immediately silenced. "It's time." He held up a hand to illustrate the beginning of the transformation. Silvery hair had begun to grow along his arm, and his eyes already had a butter like appearance. _

_Chase stood back from the morphing crowd. She could change must faster than them, and had to be careful that she didn't draw attention to herself. Until the filthy blood drinkers were gone she had to blend in, had to be a werewolf. Moments later, though, she let the wolf gnawing on her bones emerge, and the pack started for a street of abandoned warehouses. _

_They all knew the plan. Damien had briefed them relentlessly. No one would mess up because a mistake would mean exile, and that was a fate worse than death. Chase settled herself in front of the building that housed the coven. She was to wait until Damien gave the signal, and then the pack would attack. The vamps wouldn't know what hit them. _

_Now. _

_There was a rush of fur, teeth, and claws. The warehouse was full of screams, both of surprise and pain, and growls. It was chaos, and it took every bit of concentration a wolf could possess to not kill your own kind. The vampires were surprised. There were only ten, a weak attempt at resistance was made, but it only took a few moments for the job to be complete. One nest wiped out._

_She heard a growl off to her right, and saw Damien sniffing a body. A human body. _

_A week later the pack was in the clearing, and Chase was trying not to scream. A beautiful blonde haired man faced the alpha male. The blonde that Chase loved, the blonde that promised not to die. Damien circled him, explaining that if he could reach the clearing in the middle of the woods he would be safe. The moon rose. The chase started. _

_She ran as fast as she could, and had soon overtaken the head of the pack. The blonde glanced over his should and tripped on a raised root. He fell, the sound echoing in the forest, and the pack slowly formed a circle around him and advanced. Chase jumped into the center, growling and fighting back for all it was worth, but she couldn't save him. _

_Forsaking everything she stood for, Chase returned to her human figure. He had seen the change, and, though almost dead, knew it was her. _

"_Chastity…" he whispered._

_She wiped the dirt and blood off his face, tears falling freely. "You promised me," she whispered back, "You promised me you wouldn't die." _

"_You…" he coughed, blood overflowing in the corners of his mouth. "You lied…"_

_She shook her head. "I had to. I love you. You can't leave me." _

_He only stared at her a moment more before closing his eyes._

"Thomas!" She jerked up, gasping for breath. It took a few seconds for her to realize that it was just a dream, that she hadn't witnessed his death in reality for the second time. That he hadn't had to relive the torture twice.

Once she had clamed down, she looked around for Dean. The apartment was dark, and as she crept to the railing, she could make out both Winchesters sprawled over various pieces of furniture. Reassured that they hadn't been present for the dramatic performance, she lethargically crawled back into her bed.

_Days later Damien demanded she explain what she was. Despite the differences, the pack still accepted her as one of their own, better even since she could kill whenever it was needed. But it didn't matter anymore. She may have still been alive, but she was already dead. After all, a wolf mates for life. _


	5. Someone To Die For

**I forgot the disclaimer last time. So this time it's disclaimer x 2!**

**Many thanks to -cRazYxBeaUtiFul-, Wasted-On-Love101, and LillysOfTheYalley! **

**Hope this chapter doesn't dissapoint!**

* * *

Dean rolled over on the couch and glanced at the digital, blue-numbered clock. Four a.m. Only twenty minutes since the last time he had checked. How far away was sunrise? He rolled over onto his back, heaving a heavy sigh in the process. Damn wolves. If only he had thought to grab a couple silver bullets before he came up here…

"No…"

He sat up. Chastity's quiet voice carried around the room.

"Please, don't hurt him…"

What was she talking about? He pushed himself off the couch and stealthily climbed upstairs. She was sprawled across the bed complete with pillows on the floor and twisted blankets. Dean moved the picture frame off the table that had once housed the merciless vase. No need for more stitches.

"Stop…"

Dean watched her for a few more seconds. She was dreaming, obviously, and he had fleeting hopes that it was about him. Then again, stop wasn't a word he wanted to hear. Frowning at earlier actions he headed back down the narrow steps.

"Thomas!"

He heard the bed move with Chase's sudden motion, and he quickly repositioned himself on the couch just in time to hear her softly pad to the railing and survey the brother's below. Hopefully satisfied, he watched her walk back to the bed where, almost instantly, she was dreaming again.

Once he was sure she wouldn't hear him, Dean stood again and walked to a large bookcase. Its lower shelves were occupied by books on all kinds of supernatural. It was like Sam's hard drive in a tangible form. From everything to urban legends to proven events, the girl had whatever she needed to hunt. He knew she was smart.

Unlike its counterparts, the highest shelf housed three thick books with no title printed on the spine. With some effort, Dean managed to wrestle one off the shelf and down to the floor. He flipped it open and was amazed to find an album filled with pictures. How long had it been since he had seen one? Felt like forever. His family wouldn't pause long enough to take pictures, let alone collect them.

The beginning was filled with pictures of a tiny girl surrounded by two taller versions of her. Dean pulled it out of the sleeve and looked at the back. "Chasteté, Adele, et Sophia. Février 1987." Chastity and…her sisters? Sam had said lived in France for a few years. Then for some reason she had moved to Romania, and finally she ended up here. He didn't know where Sam had found the information, but thanks to his computer he had his ways. Dean made a mental note to learn how to use the search engine on it. Might be a nice change from his usual web sites.

He replaced the photo and flipped a few pages forward. A large portrait caught his eye. He could point out Chase, but the other two were a mystery. Once again the back provided a clue: "La Roumanie. 2000." She looked about eighteen in the picture, so she must have moved to Romania around then. The very last picture was torn in half but patched up with clear tape. "L'enterrement du père." Her dad had died. That was a little interesting.

Done with the first album, he placed it back on the shelf and pulled down the other two. The first of the pair was heavier, so Dean opened it to a random page. What looked like a birthday party filled the slots. Everything from pictures of a large group of girls to each of the girls surrounded by random people, none of them were boring. Dean flipped the group picture out and with it came a small card. He opened the card and read, "Chase, nous a espéré que vous aviez appris comment survivre après vingt et un ans. Mais vous avez besoin évidemment toujours aide ! Svp, ne pas être trop fâché, et se rappeler, la gueule de bois de frist est la plus mauvaise ! Amour, Alyssa" He knew he should have taken French. Something about life and hope…oh well.

In the rest of the pictures Chase was always found grinning from ear to ear. He wondered what had happened to make her stop smiling like that. The very last page contained a picture all too similar to the funeral picture in the first album. "L'enterrement de la mère." So her mother was dead too.

The final album was a feather compared to the first two. When he opened it, Dean found Chase still smiling, though the grin was slightly smaller, and arm in arm with a tall, blonde boy. This time the captions were under the pictures. "Chase and Thomas: Spring semester, 2002." Only five years ago. So this was Thomas. Dean wondered what had happened to him to make Chase wake up screaming his name. Did he break up with her? Leave her at the alter? Dean turned the page. "Thomas-graduation," "Chastity Stone: Pre-med," and other similar captions underlined the poses. So she had graduated college. He was impressed.

Wanting to find out why he wasn't around anymore, Dean continued leafing through the pages. Chase and Thomas in the mountains. Chase and Thomas in both France and Romania. Chase and Thomas sitting on top of someone's corvette. With each picture Chase's smile got bigger and bigger, but Dean quickly realized why she wasn't as happy anymore. The very last picture seemed a common thread between the three albums. "L'enterrement de Thomas." He had died, too. Damn.

Dean put the albums back on the shelf and glanced upstairs. No wonder she was so screwed up.

As soon as Dean could see the first ray of sunlight through a window, he left. He woke Sam enough so that he could make it to the car, and then drove. First to the motel, he needed to grab the rest of their stuff, and then to the city limits. Sam slept the whole way, and Dean was grateful.

XxXxX

"Chastity. Wake up. I need to speak with you." Damien's silky voice pulled her out of her current nightmare.

"What?" she asked groggily. Why was he here? And why didn't Dean wake her up? Her eyes grew wide. Dean. She jumped out of bed and ran downstairs. There was no sign of the two hunters. Not even an indention in a pillow.

"Looking for something?" Damien had followed her down.

"What? I…no." She lowered herself onto the couch. "Nothing."

A wicked smile pulled up the corners of his mouth. "I know they were here Chastity. Don't try and deny it."

"Who?" Chase pulled her feet under her.

"The hunters. I can smell them. Especially the older one. He would have been quite the treat."

Chase glared at him, but he just laughed in response.

"Please, forgive me. I can promise we won't hunt them again. Last night was your round, my dear." Still chuckling he sat beside her.

"So, why are you here? It's been awhile since you made a house call." Venom dripped from every word.

"Two items need attention," he replied casually. "The first one will no doubt make you happy."

"And what would that be?" Chase wanted him to get to the point. And more than that she wanted him gone.

"We've found another nest."

"How many?"

"Eleven so far. Turner believes there to be more."

Eleven vampires up for the killing. She smiled despite her anger. Eleven vampires would be a great stress relief. "Are we going in tonight?"

"Yes. As soon as possible. We think they have plans to hunt tonight. Hopefully, we will arrive before they leave."

"Alright," she nodded, "I'll be there."

"Good." He paused for a moment. "And there is something else I would like to discuss."

Suddenly on guard, she asked, "What?"

"As you know, in a few short months I will be forced to relinquish my place as pack leader in favor of my son."

"I've heard."

"When that happens he will need to choose a mate, and not just anybody will suffice. He needs a mate that can help him lead the pack for years to come."

"Okay…"

"I think you would do well in that position. Thrive even."

Chase was speechless. Did he just ask her to marry his son?

"You don't have to worry yourself with the answer for a few months to come, but I urge you to accept the offer." He stood, "And now I must go prepare for tonight."

It took a second for Chase to collect her thoughts, but right before the door shut behind him she yelled, "I can tell you my answer right now."

Damien came back in. "Wonderful. Aden will be thrilled that you accepted."

"No."

"No what, pet?"

"No, I will not accept his offer."

Damien seemed stunned, but her recovered quickly. "Chastity, it is not so much of a request as a command. You know our laws. Once an alpha male chooses a mate it is not up for discussion."

"Exactly," Chase stood up, "Your laws. Not mine."

"You are a part of the pack." His voice was stern.

"But I don't need you." Chase replied without thinking. "I can survive alone."

He nodded, "In theory, yes. But you need others that understand you. I highly doubt that you can find a _human_," he sneered at the word, "who can accept you. And I know you, you are not happy alone." Once again he walked out the door. "I will see you tonight."

Chase slammed the door behind him. She was not like him. She was not bound by his laws. And she was not going to marry his son. Besides, there was a very important item he had overlooked: she wasn't happy with the pack.


	6. Maneater

**Disclaimer…Disclaimer…Dis-freaking-claimer**

**So… fun times with this one. I like a hateful Chase. Is that a bad thing? **

**Many thanks to all who reviewed! Hope you like chapter six!!**

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Road signs passed in a blur as the black Impala barreled down the highway. Dean kept his eyes on the white lines in the road. As long as he watched those he would keep going- as long as they lead the way out the state he wouldn't look back.

"Ugh," Sam groaned as he slowly stretched in the passenger seat.

"Morning, sunshine." Dean joked.

Sam looked around, "Where are we?"

"Couple hours outside of North Carolina." Dean changed lanes.

"What? Why?" Sam looked around as if trying to find a way out of the car.

"Because I've got us a job. In North Carolina." One, two, three white lines.

"Dean, I don't know where you've been for the past two days, but we already have a job."

"Really, Sam? Mind telling me what that is? Because I sure as hell don't know." Four…Eight…Twelve white lines.

"Chase? Vampires? Werewolves? Any of this ringing a bell?" Sam was practically frantic.

"She doesn't need us, Dude." Twenty-seven…

"Since when have you cared if we're needed or not?"

"Since she doesn't need us. It seems like she and that pack of hers has everything under control." Thirty-three…

"Dean," Sam stared at him, "Are you completely blind?"

"What? No."

"Okay. Then you know why she stays with the werewolves, when she's obviously unhappy."

"She's unhappy?" Dean frowned, "Seems pretty damn content to me," he muttered.

"You're unbelievable!" Sam turned to glare down the passing scenery.

Fifty-six, fifty-seven, fifty…oh, shit. Dean pulled over to the side of the road. "Why is it such a big deal that we're leaving?"

"No. You're right. She probably has everything under control." Sam ignored him.

"Stop being such a chick." Dean grabbed his brother's shoulder, "What is it?"

"They killed her boyfriend. Actually, considering she's part wolf, they probably killed her 'mate.' Her mom and dad, too. And, from what I understand, she's next in line if she doesn't abide by whatever laws are governing the things." Sam smugly crossed his arms. "What do you know?"

Dean cocked his head, "How the hell do you know all that?"

"Because she answers question when they're asked politely."

"She told you all that?"

"Some of it. The rest was implied."

Cursing under his breath, Dean quickly drove over the cement median in the middle of the road. Sam had just reached a whole new level with those puppy-dog eyes of his. A level that Dean was slightly jealous of, even though he would never admit it, and a level that he was going to make damn sure wouldn't pose any more problems for Chase. No one else was going to die in her life. Herself included.

A few thousand white lines later, Sam was knocking on the heavy door Dean had been so anxious to close behind him.

"Screw this," Dean said shoving his shoulder into the door and forcing it open.

"Dean!" Sam surveyed the damage.

"It's like phone calls. If no one answers, you show up at their house and beat the shit out of them." Dean strode into the apartment. "Chase!" he called, but the only response was the echo of his voice.

"Where do you think she is?" Sam asked.

"Dunno. She's pissed, though." Dean motioned towards the desecrated bookshelf. "Let's check the woods."

"You mean go back to where you almost got killed?" Sam's long legs couldn't keep up with Dean's strides back to the car.

"Almost being the key word. Yeah." Dean didn't know why he was so nervous all of a sudden. It wasn't like the girl couldn't take care of herself.

"You must really like her," Sam mused as the car rumbled out of the lot.

"You must really like pain," Dean replied, "Because the second I get a chance, your ass is mine."

"Why?"

"For not telling me about her sooner." The engine whined as Dean accelerated.

"You're such a jerk."

"There's only enough room for one bitch in the car, Sammy, and that's not me."

"What are they saying?" Sam edged closer to his brother.

"I don't know. Shut-up." Dean watched Damien speak to his pack. He looked like he was briefing them on some situation. Everyone's expression was so serious.

"Do you have any idea what he's talking about."

Dean shot his brother a look, "No. And if you keep yapping I won't." Shaking his head he turned back to the show. Damien had been replaced with the male that had found him and Sam, and the female, Desiree, was lounging in the background.

"Their number has increased," he addressed the pack. "Originally, eleven were holed up, but one caught our scent." The male turned to Desiree who was now holding the arm of a very pale, very attractive woman. "She was able to warn the others before Aden caught up with her." At this a new male stood before the group. He was the mirror image of Damien except younger and softer somehow. Dean curled his lip in disgust for the new figure. There was just something about him…

"…dirty pack will never succeed!" The woman was yelling. "You're all the same. Brainless _and _spineless!" She barely flinched as Desiree slowly twisted her arm a way an arm shouldn't be turned. "You're no better than the humans we devour!"

"Enough." Aden finally spoke.

The vampire grinned wickedly. "No," her voice was slightly softer and Dean had to strain to hear the next few words, "You're worse than humans. Your pathetic attempts to protect them prove it. You actually choose to hunt animals. How long has it been since you were true to your species? How long since you took the life of an innocent? How long since you put those dirty humans in their place-at the bottom of the food chain?"

"I believe you were told enough." The voice was thick with hate, and sent chills down Dean's spine. It was hard to match it with the girl that now faced the vampire.

"Enough," she mimicked, "I think that's for me to decided."

Chase pushed the hood of her cloak back. "No, you have no decisions here."

"Dude, that's not…" Sam whispered at his elbow.

"Yeah. It is."

XxXxX

Chase could barely look at the piece of trash Aden had drug in without feeling the fur ripple across her back. _Just a bit, _she told herself, _just let them have their fun and then you can tear that dirty blood sucker limb from limb. _

"No decisions?" She laughed.

Chase felt the growl drag in her throat. How dare she laugh. How dare she mock. How dare she exist.

"It would be wise for you to remain silent." Aden flanked Chase's right side. "We're not known for our mercy."

"I'm not expecting mercy from you!" Laughter again. "In fact, I'm hoping you'll be expecting mercy from us!"

Aden's eyes rippled with momentary fear. His first hunt without daddy's shadow, and he was terrified. It made Chase sick. Damien was right, his mate would have to be strong because Aden was not lead material.

"They're coming you know." The vampire smirked, "They're going to rip you all apart one by one."

Chase glanced at Desiree who nodded. Of course the coven would try to save this girl. She was the mate of their leader. Smirking right back, Chase replied, "If that's the case then it would only be fair to return the favor." Still smiling she slowly let the wolf overtake her. The vampire's eyes widened in a mixture of shock and fear, and Chase had to laugh. The sound came out as a growl, though, only scaring the vamp more.

"I've heard about you," she whispered. "I thought it was only legend. A werewolf that can change without the moon. It sounded insane. I'm glad it wasn't." Desiree released the vampire and the pack formed a circle around the two. The vampire grinned revealing a second set of razors protruding through her gums.

_I'm glad, too. _Chase succumbed to the monster inside her. The wolf smelled the fear radiating form the creature. It also smelled the lack of blood in the veins of the creature, and there it smelled weakness. The yellow eyes of the wolf took a darker tone, almost a color of regret if wolves could feel regret. The chase wouldn't last long. The kill would come quick. The creature slowly circling the agile animal wasn't a threat.

"Chastity," Aden called, "Not too long."

"Chastity?" The vampire's vicious grin grew, "I know that name. How do I know that name?"

Chase took the opportunity to lunge, and the vampire toppled to the ground.

"Oh, yes!" Even close to death the thing was brash. "It was your name that he screamed as we slowly drained his blood."

The wolf snarled. What importance did this have? None. This wasn't the fight. This couldn't be the fight. Both Chase and the wolf wanted more. Both wanted a kill, not a murder.

"Thomas? I think his name was. Quite the specimen. Shame we didn't get to finish him off."

Claws were buried in the vamps cold skin. It would have been more satisfying with blood.

"That's right, Chastity. Avenge your lover."

Slowly, more wolves came into view. Chase faintly registered the moon. The wolf smelt the familiarity of the pack, and tried to make sense of its sudden appearance.

"Go on. What's stopping you?"

Enough. The wolf sank its teeth into the marble skin of the creature under it. It had no interest in conversation, and Chase's anger only drove its instinct farther. It had to die. Whatever wasn't familiar had to die. Whatever wasn't wolf had to die. She could do that much.

A much larger wolf was suddenly beside her. Its snowy hue rivaled her dark one. Aden, the little twit, had come to finish the creature off now that the dirty work was done. Pathetic. Chase released the neck of the vampire and padded to the back of the pack. He could have the final say. It wasn't important. She had hoped for more of a fight, and the lack thereof had sent her momentary high plummeting to the ground. She pushed the wolf back inside her and then watched through hazel eyes as the vampire was ripped apart. The thing didn't even scream. Pathetic.

"A human amidst werewolves? How delightful!" The voice slid to Chase's ears like honey. Here was her fight.

She slowly turned, feigning fear, and gazed up at a majestic looking vampire.

"And to think, I thought I would miss dinner tonight!" His cronies laughed at the comment.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I am no one's dinner." Chase's voice ripped through the vampire's cool demeanor.

"Excuse me?" He took a closer look at her.

"You heard me." And with that the black wolf once again leapt for the kill.

She had the element of surprise on her side, and she was able to easily decapitate the cocky son of a bitch before his coven had time to react. When she was done with the morbid task, she eagerly regarded the rest. Before she could so much as growl they attacked, and both parts of her were caught up in the rush of it all.

XxXxX

Both brothers were silent. The scene before them was indescribable. Dean had seen his fair share of human fights, both fair and unfair, but he had never seen anything like the war going on below them. There was around thirty vampires, the most either had ever seen in one place, against the fifteen wolves in the pack. Surprisingly, for so many monsters there was barely any noise. It was obvious both groups were used to this.

Everywhere he looked, Dean saw chaos. Fur, teeth, claws, fists-both parties were fighting with whatever they had. The wolves seemed to have the upper hand despite their small numbers, but two on one was wearing them down quicker than Dean would have thought possible.

"They aren't going to win," Sam realized a few minutes into the battle.

Dean glared at him, "Of course they will."

"No." Sam watched dejectedly, "They're too outnumbered. I only see two dead vamps. It should be going faster."

"How do you know?" Dean wished he'd just shut up. Of course the wolves would win. How was that even a question?

"Look, Dean. This isn't a fight between mortal and immortal. It's completely supernatural, and they're wearing down just like two regular guys would."

Fuck. He was right. Dean eyed the silver blade at his feet. "What do you say we make the fight a little more even?"

Sam grinned in response.

XxXxX

Chase wasn't moving as fast as she did in the beginning. Every time a hand grazed her fur she mentally berated herself. She had to finish, had to kill, had to prove to him that she was good. A strong grip encircled her neck.

"Bitch," a voice murmured, "Bet 'cha can't-"

The vampire was cut off, and its head toppled in front of Chase. She didn't bother to stop. There were more to deal with. She saw three surrounding Desiree, and, without giving it a second though, lunged herself at the closest one. The man went down with a sickening thud, and the black wolf sank its teeth into the neck. Seconds later the other two were down and Desiree ran to help a tawny wolf that was corned against the side of a bank. It took a second for Chase to find a new target, and then another, and then another. She kept going fueled by her disgust for the race, her anger at what they did, and the wolf's need for blood. That was the beauty of it, the wolf would never be satisfied, and there fore would never stop. And Chase would let it go until every last vampire was dead.

Marked by growls and screams, time passed. There were only three before them now, Chase glanced around. Only ten wolves were left, and they all planed of revenging their fallen companions. The middle vampire suddenly fell headless to the ground. The pack paused. Did the coven just turn on its own? A trick, the wolf screamed. It could smell blood on the two remaining creatures, and it wasn't going to stop until that blood was displayed for all to see.

The other wolves had stopped-some had even backed up. They were clearly afraid of something, but not her. The dark wolf was fearless. It only knew one thing: kill what didn't belong. They didn't belong.

A low growl played in her throat, pushing the two men back. The wolf didn't circle, though the instinct was strong, but instead sunk close to the ground giving them a chance to run. God, let them run.

No. They stood still. It didn't matter, the wolf was slowly driven insane by the smell of their blood,

_Wait, _Chase faintly registered, _vampires don't have blood. _

The wolf jumped, and as sudden as the leap, a burning sensation ripped across her chest. The black wolf lay crumpled on the ground.


	7. Such Great Heights

**Um…I'm claming a dis. Can I do that?**

**Long chapter last time. Short chapter this time. But, extra special treat, I'm about to update "The Night The Lights Went Out!" I know you all are _so _excited, don't deny it. **

**-Side Note- People who bash on other peoples writing really piss me off. I'm all for constructive criticism, but if you have nothing good to say, then, please, shut your "cakehole." **

**-Happiness- Thanks for the reviews! As always, they keep me going!

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"What is it doing?" Sam asked. He was breathing hard, and Dean had to really focus to hear him.

The black wolf was advancing, low to the ground, and vibrating with a deep growl. Dean's hand involuntarily gripped the handle of his machete tighter.

"You think it's Damien?" Sam was slowly backing up.

"I don't know." Dean slowly moved in front of his little brother. What was this thing's problem? Did it not realize that they had just saved the pack's ass? "Nice wolf…" Dean muttered.

Petite, black ears flicked back, and it looked like the wolf was arguing with itself. Yet, the ears perked forward again and the wolf continued.

Dean raised the weapon right as the wolf jumped. The blade sank into the wolf's chest and the wolf fell to the ground. There was a faint hissing sound, and when Dean was sure the wolf was unconscious he bent down to examine it. Where the sharp edge had cut, the wolf's skin was bubbling.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked bending over.

"I don't know." The answer seemed to be his only one. Suddenly, another wolf, this one white, came beside the black one, It stayed as far away as possible from the machete, but still maneuvered itself so it was almost right on top of the other. It growled, and Dean quickly backed up. The white wolf sniffed at the gash and its lip curled over its teeth. A few other wolves joined the white one, each taking a turn and sniffing the wound, and all backed up dejectedly. The last wolf to approach was a grey. It moved slightly slower than the rest, and Dean didn't remember seeing it during the fight. He regarded the fallen animal for just a moment before locking Dean in his cold, yellow stare. It was then that Dean started to notice the change.

Slowly, the black wolf's limbs were becoming longer, and its fur seemed to be disappearing into its skin.

"Holy-" Sam started.

"Shit." Dean felt his stomach churn. Blood-human blood- was slipping down her chest and mingling with the brunette hair that was fanned across the ground. The skin surrounding the injury was still slightly fizzing, and now, without the fur, he could see that the skin was taking on a light shade of grey.

"What do we do?" Sam asked eyeing the remaining wolves.

Dean lifted the girl off the ground. "We take her back to her apartment," he replied as if it was the most obvious answer in the world, and, to him, it was. Before he began walking back to his car he turned to the grey wolf. "If you don't find us as soon as the sun comes up, I swear I'll kill you all."

The grey wolf seemed to incline its head ever so slightly, and, satisfied, the Winchesters headed back to Chase's apartment.

X

"She looks so…" Sam bit his lip.

"What?" Dean demanded. He'd been temperamental ever since they walked through the door. Not that he cared.

"Uncomfortable," he replied.

He might be right, but Dean didn't know what else to do. She was in her bed, warm, and safe. Granted, she could be a little cleaner, but that would involve changing her clothes, and there were just some lines he wouldn't cross. Now if she were conscious…

"Dean!" Sam broke his train of thought.

"What?" Dean snapped walking away from the girl. "I don't know what else to do, Sammy." _I don't know what to do, period._

Sam sighed, "I'll go see if I can find something online or in all those books that can help us."

"Yean." Dean glanced out the window. He was starting to see the first few rays of sun. "Those things better get here," he whispered under his breath.

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Sam opened it, and Damien, Desiree, and Damien's mini me sauntered in. "Where is she?" Damien asked. Sam pointed upstairs at Dean who was leaning on the metal railing.

"What's wrong with her?"

Damien took one look at Chase before regarding him with the same yellow eyes from last night. "Your blade is silver, is it not?"

"Yeah. So?" Dean asked suddenly defensive.

"It poisoned her." Damien bent over Chase and examined the gash. Without saying a word, he held out a hand, and Desiree pulled a syringe out of her pocket.

"I don't think-" Dean began. But before he could finish his sentence, Damien had injected whatever solution into Chase's neck.

"You're correct. You don't think." Damien handed the needle back to Desiree.

"Why don't you boys get acquainted while I clean up little miss invalid?" She began rummaging through Chase's vanity.

Dean hesitated, but eventually followed the two werewolves down the stairs. As much as he wanted to stay and watch over Chase he knew they would probably kick him out anyway. And he didn't want a fight over Chase's unconscious body.

XxXxX

"There's not enough water around here to make this much fog," Chase mused as she waded through the smoke. She had woken up disoriented and alone. It was about to drive her mad. "There's also trees." The sky was an eerie white, and the air was cold on her bare arms. Shouldn't someone be around? She stopped walking and tried to see through the fog. "Come out, come out where ever you are," she called. No one replied, and Chase kept walking.

After what felt like an eternity, the fog slowly started to lift. "Well, Dorothy, we're sure as hell not in Kansas anymore." Chase could see patches of green grass and large, green trees. As the day became clearer, she could make out a the source of the fog- a small river- and someone who might be able to help her. "Excuse me!" she yelled to the solitary person walking along the shoreline. The figure turned, and Chase stopped in her tracks.

"I'm glad you finally came," he said with a small smile.


	8. Get Out Leave

**Specification: If I owned Dean and Sam, they wouldn't have time for a television show. In fact, they'd probably locked in my house so no one else could steal them. I wonder if they like 'go fish'……**

**Lovely, lovely reviews. Lovely, lovely people!!!

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She couldn't move. No. That couldn't even describe it. The fact that she could barely exist almost did the situation justice. Almost.

"What?" he ran a hand through his spiked, blonde hair, "Not as good as you remember?"

Chase could feel her mouth moving, but no words were coming out.

"I'm taking that as a yes." He chuckled awkwardly and shoved his hands into the pockets of his tan jacket. "Well, you look the same. Except for your hair. It's longer." He reached up and tucked a tangled strand behind her ear. She couldn't help but flinch at the touch. "Are you planning on saying something? Or have you taken a vow of silence?"

"This is so clichéd." Well. There it was.

He stared at her for a second before bursting out laughing. "Yeah," he said between laughs, "I guess you're right." He caught his breath and continued, "Same Chase. Blunt as a dull knife."

"No. You can't say that." True, she had found her voice, but everything she wanted to say was still lost. _Incoherent babble, meet Chase._

"Why?"

"Because…because he said that."

"Who?"

She glared at him. "Thomas."

"And who am I?" He held out his hands for examination.

"I don't know." She plopped down on the thick grass.

"Let me introduce myself, then." Sitting down beside her, he held out a hand, "Thomas Mason."

"No, you're not him." She shrugged off the hand shake.

"Chase…"

"You don't exist. This doesn't exist." She stood up and searched frantically for something, anything, familiar. "Where the fuck am I? No," she stopped his answer, "I'm crazy. Insane. That's where I am."

"You're not crazy."

"Then I'm dead!"

"Chase, you're not dead."

"Then what's going on?" She crumpled back onto the ground defeated by her lack of knowledge.

"I'm not sure exactly." Thomas moved closer to her. "I think this place is a kind of limbo."

"What do you mean?" Chase asked with a guarded gaze.

"It's not Hell. It's certainly not Heaven. Limbo's the general consensus."

"Are there others?"

"Occasionally. So far they've all crossed over, though." He continued with a prompting look from Chase. "The river. When someone crosses it, he disappears. I think it's because they're going where ever they're supposed to go. Heaven, Hell, reincarnation. I don't know." He shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in the grass.

Her gaze softened. "Why haven't you crossed over yet?"

His eyes were closed. "I told you," he said, his smile growing, "I've been waiting for you."

A cool breeze played across her skin. "Ouch," she muttered when it touched a spot on her neck.

"What is it?" Thomas sat up. Concern was etched in his face.

"Nothing." She bit her bottom lip. "How do I know it's really you?" The moment the question escaped, she regretted asking it. But, she had to know. Her hopes couldn't climb much higher without another few handholds.

"How indeed." He sighed, a familiar sign that he was thinking, and then smiled again. "Got it."

"Got what?" She asked. But she was quickly answered by the thing she missed the most. Thomas kissed her lightly on the lips, easily wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her into him. It was the same thing he had done when she came home from a hunt shaken up. "It's like a cheesy teen movie," she muttered into his chest.

"Admit it. You always liked those cheesy teen movies."

"Glad to see you took that secret to the grave." Chase replied. She closed her eyes with contentment as Thomas's hand traced up and down her arm.

"Are you happy?" he suddenly asked.

"I am now." Silence. "Are you?"

"I am now." Thomas imitated.

"Do I get to come with you?"

"Where?" Thomas's hand stopped moving.

"Across the river." She sat up and looked him in the eye. "You said you were waiting for me. I'm here now. You can cross the river."

"Chastity," It sounded like he was scolding her, "You aren't going to be here much longer."

"How do you know? Maybe I'll die in a few minutes."

He laughed, "No. You're going to go back. Hopefully, you won't die for a long, long time."

"But I want to." A tear escaped down her cheek.

"You don't mean that," he replied wiping it away.

"How do you know." She knew she sounded like a sulking two year old, but she didn't care. He wasn't going to leave her again.

"Please, Chase. I don't want you dead. I want you alive and happy."

"But I'm not happy back there! I'm not!" The tears were really falling now. She wanted to run. She needed to run. She couldn't handle the feeling of weakness and desperation that was climbing over her.

"You could be. If you tried." Thomas tried his best to dry her eyes. "You have everything you need. And eventually, a long time form now, you'll be back. Hopefully you'll bring someone with you."

"What?"

"You know the story line. You can't keep holding on to everything you've lost. You've got to gain a few things, too. There's someone out there that can make you as happy as you were. If not for you, then find him for me."

"It won't work like that!" She was desperate now. "Damien's son wants me. And my obligation to the pack is-"

"Worthless," Thomas proclaimed. "They don't own you, Chase. You've proven that over and over. Leave the city. Leave the pack. Be happy. Look," he smiled down at her legs, "You're waking up."

"No!" She grabbed on to him. "Please!"

"I love you, Chastity. Now, please, find someone that makes you happy. I won't see you suffer, and if that's all you do I'll never be able to cross the river." He smiled and kissed her forehead. "Try. For me. Just try it."

XxXxX

"You will be leaving will your brother shortly, will you not?" Damien settled himself in a chair much like a king would. Dean dropped down across from him.

"Maybe."

"It would be in your best interest to do so."

_Like hell it will._ "Why's that?" Dean leaned back in the chair and propped his feet on a low table.

"I've promised Chastity that my pack will not hunt your scent again. Soon the pack will not be mine."

"Getting fired?" Sarcasm dripped from the question.

"Not in the least. It is simply time for my son to take his place as leader."

_This sounds like some twisted horror flick. _"And who would that be?"

"Me." The other boy stood up. "And my father's right. The best thing for you is to find another town to go to. And soon."

"And the best thing for you to do is to stop threatening me." Dean's height easily exceeded the other's.

"Make me," was the simple reply.

Shrugging, Dean shoved him back into the wall. The boy snarled and prepared to fight back, but Desiree chose that moment to appear at the edge of the stairs.

"She's about to wake up, Aden." Her head was bowed and she was fidgeting with a ring that occupied her index finger.

Smirking in Dean's direction, Aden stalked up the steps with his father on his heels. Dean trailed behind plotting the best way to decapitate the jerk.

Chase was sitting crossed legged on the bed and it sounded to Dean like she was about to hack up a lung. Desiree pushed a glass of water at her hand, but she batted it away. Soon she was able to sit up, and wiping tears away from her hate filled eyes she gazed at the future of her pack.

"Get out." Her voice sent chills around the room, and Aden took a step back.

"Chastity," Damien stepped forward, "Calm down. Aden has just saved you from a most terrible death."

"Aden? Save me?" A round of laughter sent her into another coughing spell, "If that were the case then I'd be better off." She caught her breath and glared at the two. "Leave." -

"Chase-" Desiree was at her side.

"Right now."

"You need someone to stay with you for a bit," Damien tried to persuade. "Let Aden-"

"Get the fuck out of my house, Damien. You too, Aden."

Dean couldn't help but smile a little when she didn't say his name.

The two dominant males stared Chase down a few seconds longer before Damien finally nodded his head. "We will visit soon, Chastity. Come, Desiree. We are hunting again tonight." The three werewolves dramatically left the apartment. Dean watched as Sam locked the door behind him.

Sam looked up at his older brother and grinned. Dean grinned back, but the smile dropped when he turned back to Chase. She was fingering a stray thread on her duvet and staring dejectedly into space.

"Do you want anything?" he tried.

"No."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Unsure of what to do, Dean slowly started to head down the stairs. As much as he hated to admit it, they needed a new hunt. He and Sam had seriously over stayed their welcome here.

"Dean?" Chase called timidly after him.

"Yeah?" He turned back around and leaned against the wall.

"Where are you and Sam going to go next?" She twirled the thread around her finger.

He winced when it snapped. "I don't know yet." He crossed his arms, "Why?"

"Curious." She smoothed over the bump the pulled thread had made before pushing back the blanket and slowly swinging her legs over to the floor.

"What are you doing?" Dean hurried to help her as she unsteadily rose to her feet.

"I think I want something to drink." She put as little weight on his outstretched arm as possible.

"Let me get it."

"No, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"You almost died."

"But I didn't." Her eyes held his until he was forced to look away.

"At least let me help you to the kitchen."

"I can manage," she replied taking a few steps. But it was clear she couldn't when she hesitated at the top of the stairs.

"Just hold on to my arm," Dean commanded coming beside her. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"That's what I worry about," Chase muttered.

Dean was pretty sure she hadn't meant for him to hear.


	9. Gaurdian Angel

**Let's Clarify: Dean, Sam, Winchester, John, Supernatural, and etc. are only mine in some far off fantasy world. Good thing I refuse to believe in reality!**

Ok. So. I think I only have a few chapters to go. So I'll ask: Sequel? Prequel? I don't know any other "quel" words, but anything anybody REALLY wants to see? Lemme know.

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_What's the worst that could happen?_

All hell could break lose. That was the worst that could happen. As she watched him watch her she knew it was true. She knew the longer she kept this up, the longer it would have to fail. To end. To die. It wouldn't be the first time, or, with her luck, the last.

_What's the worst that could happen?_

Her stomach convulsed at the thought of leaving the city. It became her safe haven after she left Romania. She had thrived, which was more than she was doing a million miles away. The pack had taken her in, treated her like family. Hell, it was the only family she had anymore. But she wasn't happy. And she knew that.

_What's the worst that could happen?_

He just kept staring at her. As she sipped on the glass of water his eyes followed ever single move her body made. It was slightly creepy, slightly flattering, and massively annoying. Couldn't he just keep his eyes to himself? She should tell them to leave. They needed to leave. She wanted them to leave. She wanted him to stay. No. It wasn't going to happen. Screw what "Thomas" had said. The whole dream was exactly what it was. No way was it real. It didn't matter.

_What's the worst that could happen?_

She was leaving. Paris. Milan. Somewhere in Europe. Somewhere across the sea. She had been gone long enough. She could forgive what had killed her parents. Maybe she could even forgive her parents for dying. Maybe she could forgive herself for leaving them. She smiled at the thought of slowly turning back time. At home. In Paris. Where she could be free from whatever ideals they thought she would follow. Who knows what she could do. If she could just make it through…make it across the threshold.

XxXxX

What was she thinking? Something was up, it didn't take Sam to figure that out, and it wasn't good.

What was he thinking? He had things to do, places to be, people to save. This was pathetic.

She had impressed him. That's why he had followed her home in the first place. Not only was she drop dead gorgeous, but she was strong, determined, and above all realistic. There was no pointless "sorry" when she found out his dad had died. Just a blatant acceptance and an unrivaled explanation. In a life full of sympathy she was a impressive change. That's all he could ask for.

What he needed was a plan. This plan had to involve a new job, a new evil, a new face, and about seven million thick white lines of highway. Preferably, those seven million lines would only double the distance between him and Chase. Hopefully, she would go seven million in her own direction. It also didn't take Sam to figure out that Aden was bad news every day of the week.

A new evil. That was exactly what he needed.

"I'm going-"

"You're going where?" Back to the pack? Back to Damien? To Aden?

"Back to sleep. I'm kind of tired."

"Oh, yeah, you should sleep." He glanced at the digital clock above the stove. "In fact we should all be asleep right now." No need to mention that tomorrow morning might be early.

"Where's Sam?"

Obviously she would notice. He was currently packing up their stuff and trying to find information about a plethora of murders in Islen, Nevada. A city on the opposite side of the map. "Getting something to eat."

"Oh." She started to stand up.

"You going to be alright?" She was still a little unbalanced. It made him wonder what kind of side effects both the silver and the anti-venom had on her.

"Yeah. I'll manage." She held onto the counter as long as she could before crossing the living room, and scaling the steps.

She would manage. That was never a doubt. It was too bad, though, she might benefit from a little failure.

XxXxX

They were asleep. She could leave now. They would wonder where she had gone, but Dean would know. It was possible he already knew with the way he kept coming upstairs to check on her as if she had snuck out the fire escape. He wasn't all brawn, there was some brain too.

She stole down the stairs and allowed herself a last look at the Winchesters. John had done a great job. Both boys were here, and both boys were safe. What more could he want for them? Little Sammy was curled up on the couch, still the seven year old in the dog-eared photo that occupied John's wallet, still the younger brother in Dean's shadow.

And then the shadow himself. He was propped up against the wall, head dropping onto his chest, gun gripped in his hands. Always ready for the worst. She grinned a little. He was always ready to protect everything he had. He was always ready to sacrifice for his family. John hadn't had a picture of him. Just stories. Millions of stories that always ended with Dean as a hero. And a hero he was. And a hero he always would be.

Taking a deep breath, she tiptoed across the living room. As her hand gripped the bronze door knob she heard something move behind her.

"What makes you think you can leave so easy?"


	10. Closer

I hate people who **dis** other people and then **claim **they're so cool. Whatev**er.**

**THANKS SO MUCH for all the reviews! They brighten my day! And see, the more I get the faster I update! Exciting, isn't it? Ha, gosh I'm so full of myself. Haha.

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Damn. Why couldn't the boy just go to sleep and stay there? "I'm just going outside for a minute. I need some fresh air."

"You're a bad liar, Chase." Dean stepped in front of her. "Go back to bed."

"I'm not lying, Dean. And I'm not going back to bed." She tried to push past him, but he wouldn't budge.

"You almost died. You need to rest."

"There's the almost again."

"There's the died again," he shot right back.

She took a deep breath, and tried to tell herself that his murder would accomplish nothing. "I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, you've really proved that."

"Dean," she said through gritted teeth, "Get the hell out of my way."

"No."

She couldn't believe his nerve! How dare he stand in her way! She was loupe-garou! Nothing stopped her!

"Go upstairs, Chase." He stepped closer to her, trying, she thought, to push her back.

"Dean," she said sweetly, closing what little distance remained between them, "I really need some fresh air." She draped her arms around his neck. "I swear I won't be long." She looked up at his eyes, completely willing to do what it took to get around him, but what she saw made her freeze. Concern. He was worried about her. He cared. Or possibly he was simply an amazing actor. She couldn't be completely sure, but, whatever it was, the emotion made her pause.

"Please,"

She suddenly noticed how tired he looked.

"Go upstairs and sleep. Humor me, at least." He stepped back and her arms dropped back to her sides.

Chase stood there, looking at him, until he gently spun her around and pushed her toward the stairs. "Come with me." The words were out of her mouth before she had time to reign them in. She immediately looked at the ground, slightly ashamed and awestruck that she even gave him a clue that she might need something. Someone. Something. It didn't matter. She almost felt sick because of her own weakness.

He glanced at his brother on the couch, into all the dark corners of the room, behind him at the door, around the furniture, at the kitchen, and everywhere else but her face before he answered. "Okay."

She led the way up the steps. It was pitch-black in the room, but she knew her way around. Dean, on the other hand, stumbled in the dark before she finally grabbed his hand and led him the rest of the way to her bed. While she immediately pulled the blankets around her and leaned back against the headboard, he hesitantly sat on the edge of the bed, not facing her, and nervously clenching and unclenching his fist.

"I won't bite."

His quiet chuckle floated around her. "That's not what I worry about."

"Then what do you worry about?"

"Nothing really." He shrugged, "Worry doesn't help."

"But you're allowed to do it."

"I never said I wasn't."

She sighed and stared at her ceiling. Why was he such a jerk? "I knew this guy once," she started, "he never worried about anything either."

"Really?" Dean feigned interest. "Where is he now?"

"Dead."

"Oh," he shifted uncomfortably, "sorry."

"Don't be. There's nothing you can do about it." A deep silence settled, and Chase was vaguely aware of the muscles under Dean's shirt tensing. "Does it bother you that much?"

"What?"

"Uncertainty. Are you really that bothered by it?"

"Where'd that come from?"

"Just something I've noticed." She inched closer to him. "So?"

"I'm not interested in uncertain," he stated matter of factly, "I don't really think it exists."

"Like angels?" He turned to glare at her. "Sam told me," she explained.

"Yeah. Like angels." He stood. "I'm going to check on Sammy."

"Will you be back?" She sat up a little straighter like the answer would make a difference.

"Yeah," he answered loosely,

"Dean," she hesitated, searching for the exact words, "I wish you wouldn't."

"Wouldn't what?" He paused at the top of the steps and turned towards her.

"Leave." She bit her lip. Damn inner exploitation telling her voice to disagree with her mind.

"I said I'd be back." He started climbing.

Chase jumped up and treaded evenly in his path. "Dean."

"Wh-" he was cut short when she grabbed his arm and placed a light kiss on his lips.

"I wish you wouldn't."

She didn't think he was even breathing. He just stood there, looking at her the same way she had him earlier. "Okay," he said following her back up. She didn't miss the shame and awe in his eyes.

¤

What kind of power did this girl have over him? One second he was ready to get the hell out of dodge, and the next…well, he was sitting next to her in her bed with her body leaned against him. How did he get into these situations? Not that he was complaining, but, still…

"Why do you do it?" she asked. She was exhausted, whether she would admit it or not, and he voice was heavy with it.

"Do what?" Her questions were always so complicated. There was never a yes or no answer.

"Hunt. I know it's not all revenge."

How could she know that? He didn't even know that. "It killed my parents and Sam's girlfriend. What else can I do?"

"So sorrow? You do it because if you don't you'll actually have time to feel sad?"

"No!" he spat. "I mean, no. That's not it."

She wasn't even jarred by the momentary harshness of his voice. "Tell me why you do it, then."

He shifted his weight. Why did he do it. Revenge, yes, but… "It's what I've always known. It's what my dad taught me." It sounded lame to him, but she nodded like he had just told her the cure for a broken heart.

"You've always been strong," she stated. She reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Not always."

"You're a bad liar, Dean." She laughed at herself.

He watched her twist a strand of auburn hair around and around her finger. What was it about this women that made him want to beg forgiveness for everything he'd ever done wrong? It wasn't good. That was for sure. "What about you? Why do you hunt?"

"Because I'm a wolf. And wolves hunt."

"You're not all wolf," he whispered, hoping in vain she wouldn't hear.

"I guess not." She sat up and looked directly at him. "I could like you, Winchester."

What was he supposed to say to that? He could like her too?

She laughed quietly and put a hand on the side of his face. Yielding to the pressure he turned his head, and she caught his gaze. "It probably wouldn't hurt that much. Liking you, I mean." She looked at him a moment longer before settling her head back on his shoulder. "But not yet."

He just sighed and closed his eyes. He was comfortable here for the time being. Maybe he and Sam would stay a little longer. He could handle being toyed with for a day or two. Who knows. Maybe it would help Chase with whatever issue she was going through. Maybe it would give him a chance to drive a nice silver steak into Aden's chest. Maybe it would give the brothers a break. He reached into his pocket and curled his hand around the handle of his knife. Maybe he could like her too, eventually


	11. Cold as Ice

**Even though it's sad, it's true. Chase is my only possession. Drat the luck.**

**I love getting reviews! And I love that this is working its way around! Thanks a lot everyone! I hope it continues to delight, thrill, and entertain!

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Something was vibrating near her leg. She reached down to find the disturbance to her sleep, but instead of her expected cell phone, her fingertips met with warm, tough fabric. Someone's leg was near her leg. She opened her eyes and suppressed a laugh. Her calf was across Dean's hips. That wasn't awkward or anything. She slowly disentangled herself from him and slipped the thin, vibrating phone from his pocket.

"Yes?" she whispered turning her back to Dean.

"Chase?"

"Hey, Sam." Chase felt Dean resituate himself. "What's up?"

"Is Dean there?"

Wow, these boys really got to the point. "He's still asleep. Where are you?"

"At the motel. I…needed to get something."

The liar. Chase frowned. "Hurry back and I'll make breakfast." _You'd make a decent breakfast; Damien likes liars. _

"Yeah, sure. Bye." The line went dead.

That was annoying. Chase quietly turned back over and slid the phone back into Dean's pocket.

"Hey," Dean said tranquilly as he grabbed her wrist, "You shouldn't take advantage of a guy when he's not awake to appreciate it." His eyes slowly opened. "It's just not nice."

"Yeah, because I'm sure you know what being taken advantage of feels like."

Dean pulled her hand away from his leg, "You wouldn't even be able to count the times-"

"You were rejected by some poor girl you were trying to take advantage of? You're right, the number's just too high."

"I got you into bed didn't I?"

She laughed and rolled onto her back. "Touché, Winchester. Touché."

He finally let go of her arm and reached into his pocket himself. "That was Sammy?"

"Yeah. He was at the motel getting something." She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, "He seemed a little distracted, though."

"Did he?" Dean tossed his phone onto the small table. "Is he coming back anytime soon?"

"Mmhmm. I told him I'd make breakfast."

"You can cook?"

She slapped him on the shoulder. "Yes. I can cook. Is that such a hard concept to grasp?" Slightly irritated, Chase swung her legs over the side of the bed and landed with a quiet thump on the carpet.

"Easy, tiger. It was just a question." Dean followed her down the steps and into the kitchen, "Why do you take everything so personal?"

"I don't." She grabbed a pan from a shelf above the oven and slammed it down on the stove. "Why do you insist on asking pointless questions?" She stalked to the refrigerator and pulled open the door. "I have no food," she stated after a moment. She shut the door and turned to Dean who immediately started to laugh. Chase tried to keep a straight face, but soon she was doubled over and holding onto the counter to keep from falling.

"Well," Dean composed himself, "Why don't I call Sam and tell him to pick something up."

"Yeah." Chase wiped her eyes, "That would probably be good."

XxXxX

"What the hell, Dean?" Sam sounded angry.

Dean looked around the room and into the room below. Chase was in front of her computer looking up who knows what. Good. She wouldn't hear him. "Good morning to you too," Dean replied.

"I thought you said this was over. We have a new job to deal with, and we really need to get there!"

"I know. I know. Listen," he lowered his voice, "Give me two days. The ghost won't show up in Islen for another three. We've got a little time."

"We don't know anything about it, Dean." Sam was stressed. "That's why we were leaving this morning. To do research."

"Isn't that what you and that computer of yours does best?" Dean peeked at Chase again, "Find what you can. We've go a few days."

"In other words leave you and Chase alone so you can sleep with her before we go?"

"Don't start, Sammy."

"Fine. Call if you need me." He hung up.

Dean shook his head. Sometimes his brother could be such a bitch. Throwing his phone back onto the table, Dean went to look over Chase's shoulder. But, before he could get there, she had the computer shut down.

"What were you looking at?" He watched her unfold herself from her chair and tread to the steps.

"Nothing. I'm going to change. Is Sam coming?" Her answer was quick.

"No. He wanted to do some stuff."

"Like what?"

"No clue."

Chase bit her bottom lip. "Alright. Well, you want to go get some coffee or something?"

"Sounds good." Dean's eyes followed her up the stairs before she disappeared into her huge closet.

Something wasn't exactly right, but hell if he knew what.

XxXxX

Chase grabbed her favorite black jeans and a white sweater. Why had Dean lied to her? It wasn't like she couldn't see right through whatever impenetrable defense he thought he had. He was just easy to read like that. She pulled the sweater over her head and stepped back out into her room. There he was, shoving that stupid, blue cell phone back in his pocket. God, he was beautiful. Totally off limits, but gorgeous none the less.

"Ready?" she asked sliding into her boots, and sitting on the edge of her bed to zip the backs.

"Yeah," he reached across her to grab his jacket.

The smell of worn leather and Dean himself filled her nose. _Not fair,_ she thought as she watched him slide it over his shoulders. She walked across the room and grabbed her coat before heading out the door.

Capitol Coffee was a small coffee shop on the outskirts of the city. It was never very busy, and that's what Chase loved about it. Not to mention the guy who worked every morning had a slight crush on her which resulted in free coffee.

"Could that guy be any more pathetic?" Dean asked as they settled at a table.

"What do you mean?" Chase began the tedious task of adding sugar to the bitter liquid.

"The way he practically drooled over you. I'd be careful drinking that if I were you. I mean, nothing like a little spit to make a cup of coffee tasty." He took a sip of his absent mindedly.

"He wasn't drooling over me."

"You didn't have to pay."

"So?"

"I did."

Chase looked up. "You, Dean Winchester, are a jerk. And jerks tend to have a higher cost of living than that of the average person." She went back to the sugar.

"And you Chastity Stone are cold as ice."

"My coffee is almost frozen," she said taking a small drink. They sat in a comfortable silence, slowly finishing off their drinks, until Chase noticed an eerily familiar face in a booth a few down from the table. "Shit," she muttered as the man caught her gaze and smiled nastily.

"What?" Dean looked over his should just as the man turned back around.

"I think Aden's employed some idiot to make sure I stick around." Okay. So she kind of lied to him. She knew Aden had hired some idiot to make sure she didn't leave. That was what the man did for the pack. He made sure each individual wolf filled his or her contract with it. Chase shivered. She knew of a few deals that had been broken off due to suspicious accidents.

"That man?" Dean looked over his shoulder again, "I could take him."

Chase smiled. "Trust me. You don't want to." She grabbed her bag and pulled her coat around her. "We have to go."

"This place isn't that great anyway." Dean followed her out the door and into her car.

"I agree." She reached into the pocket of he coat for her keys. They weren't there. "Are you kidding me?" she whispered.

"What now?"

"My keys. I must have left them in there."

"I'll go." Dean pushed open his door. "Wait here. Lock the doors. I'll be back in a second."

"Okay." Chase did as she was told. After he had gone back inside, she watched the doors nervously for any sign of the man. None came, but neither did Dean. After a few more minutes had passed, she started to get nervous. A few more minutes gone and she couldn't stand the wait anymore. Trying not to imagine the shadows jumping out at her, she walked back into the coffee shop and was immediately assaulted by the smell of blood.

She froze. Where was it coming from?

"Smell it, Chastity?" a deep voice asked behind her, "I guess that's one good thing about us. We have it in our ability to save lives, but, like all things, the ability of good must be balanced out with the ability of evil." He laughed, a terrifying and enthralling sound, and lowered his voice. "In order to find him, you're going to have to let a little of the monster inside you out. And we both know you're too scared to do it."

"And how do we know that?" Chas snapped back.

"You're scared you won't be able to control it. You're scared you'll kill him. And then what would you do? Stab yourself with a silver spike? I wish you all the luck in the world with that."

She didn't know what to say. What was there to say? "You son of a bitch."

"Only the best for you, miss." He lowered his head, revealing the back of his pale neck. "Can't have a king without a queen."

"I am not your queen."

"Not yet." With a final evil grin, he left the shop.

She watched him get into a red jeep and drive off. She would kill him. Especially if she couldn't find Dean before…no. She would find him. The man wasn't known for his stealth and cleverness. He would stash Dean somewhere obvious, but so obvious it wouldn't be. She glanced around. There wasn't a way to get behind the counter, and there were no other doors except one leading to a small balcony. Purposely, she stepped out onto a tiny cement veranda and took a deep breath. He was here somewhere. Tables and chairs, wire bands around the edge, a few plants. Where was the smell coming from? Below, her instincts screamed, underground. But there was no underground. Except…She wildly searched for stairs, and, thankfully, found them to her right. Jumping over the small gate that blocked the exit, Chase found herself under the patio and gazing at the sad sight of a broken Winchester.

He wasn't dead, and that she was overly thankful for, but he was unconscious. And beaten badly. What had happened? It didn't matter. She had to get him back to her apartment.

It wasn't as easy as the movies made it seem, but he was safe, awake, and sitting in her favorite chair thirty minutes later. Chase grabbed her first aid kit form under the sink and knelt in front of him.

"What happened?" she asked wrapping gauze around a gash on his hand.

"Your pack's bitch fights dirty." He grimaced when she tied the bandage off.

"I don't doubt it." She didn't push him anymore. She eyed his shirt. Blood was seeping through the fabric at his right shoulder. Badly. "Take your shirt off."

Dean smirked. "Wanna peek?"

"Wanna bleed to death?" she retorted pulling antiseptic and bandages out of the kit. By the time she turned her attention back to him, his shirt was off and in a pile by his feet. Chase quickly picked it up and threw it into the trash. "No blood on the carpet." Soaking a cotton ball in the antiseptic, she supported herself on the chair's arm and began cleaning the three cuts on his shoulder. It was a good thing they were dirty, otherwise…well, it was a good thing.

When she finished, she noticed several other scars that ran along his skin. "How'd you get all these?" she asked following the largest one with her finger.

"Poltergeist in Maine, Pagan god in New Hampshire, Demon induced car crash in Rhode Island, and that," he caught her hand, "is one I don't like talking about."

"Sounds like you live a healthy life."

"Doesn't it?" he let go of her hand.

"Well," she stood up, "You're good to go. You don't feel like you have a concussion or anything do you?"

"No." he shut his eyes.

"Good." She stood there a second longer before leaning down to give him a slight kill on the cheek. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked without opening his eyes.

"For involving you. I shouldn't have let you come home with me."

"But I was just so cute, right?"

"I would rather have found a puppy if you want to know the truth. Or an alligator."

Dean laughed quietly. "Cold as ice." As she turned to leave him alone for a bit, he grabbed her wrist. "By the way," he said using her as balance to stand, "I would have followed you home."

"Really, now." She stood still to let him get his feet before resuming her path.

"Really." He grabbed her arm again and pulled her into him. "So don't apologize."

"Getting sappy on me, are you?"

He sighed, "Never."

"Too bad," she wrapped her arms around his neck, careful not to move him at all, "because I'd really like to make sure you have a compassionate side." She reached up and kissed him anything but lightly.

With only the smallest bit of hesitation, Dean kissed her back and slowly lowered them back onto the couch. After a few seconds she felt his hands stir around the bottom of her shirt, and, this time, she didn't protest.


	12. Supernatural High

**Argh, matey! This be a disclaimer! Okay. So I'm kinda lame.**

**As always, thanks for the reviews! Oh, and this chapter's a little fluffy. But just a tad, I swear! And I did really really really try to avoid it! It's just really really really hard! Please, don't hold it against me!

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He had forgotten what meaning felt like. No. Everything had meaning. He had forgotten what worth felt like. With every touch of her skin, with every slight movement they made, he felt wanted. Needed even. And even though he already knew that, in some form or fashion, he was those things, it was nice to be reminded.

And her. God, she was like nothing and everything all at the same time. There was no denying the fact that he had more than his fair share of women, and it was truth that each had been different, but her. God. His head was spinning from more than the concussion he knew he had, more than the blood loss, and more than the lack of air. If getting his ass kicked by a werewolf ended in this, he would be more than happy to sacrifice himself every day.

"We shouldn't be doing this," she whispered.

His fingers stopped at her hips. "We don't have to."

But she was kissing him again. Working her damn lips in a way he didn't think was possible.

What felt like days later, they rested against the cushions; him watching the trees move outside the window, and her tracing the pattern of scars on his chest.

"Where did you get this one?" Her finger stopped on a circular scar below his collar bone.

"Oklahoma, haunted theater, nasty bitch didn't like her costume touched."

"And this one?"

"I fell out of a tree when dad told me to keep watch. I ended up on top of the banshee we were hunting. Dad ripped me a new one after we killed it."

She giggled, and moved her fingers to a thick mark that ran perpendicular to his newest wound. "This one."

He placed his hand over his. "I told you. I don't like to talk about it."

"But I want to know."

"I'm not going to tell you."

"I'm going to keep asking."

"I hope you like disappointment." His voice was harder and with a little bitterness.

She lifted her head to look at him. "It was your dad wasn't it?"

"What?" How the hell did she know that?

"Sam told me he was possessed before he…before you all were in the hospital."

"Sam talks too much," Dean muttered. "Besides my dad didn't do that."

Chase sighed. "I'll make a deal with you."

"What?"

"You tell me what happened, how you got this, and I tell you something you want to know."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"Okay." He thought a second. What did he really want to know, aside from the obvious? "Who was Thomas, and how did he die?"

"That's two questions, Winchester." She didn't even flinch.

"Fine. How did he die."

She shut her eyes and settled her head on his shoulder. "I killed him."

Dean wasn't sure how to respond. Why would she kill the guy she supposedly was sticking with for life. And hadn't Sam said the pack had killed him? "I thought you said you had never killed a human."

"He wasn't human."

"What else could he be?" he asked moving his thumb in small circles on the back of her hand.

She sighed. "He was a hunter. A good one too. There was a vampire nest a few miles outside of town. There were about twenty vamps around, and he and some others were going to clean it out."

"Go on." This was news to him. He had never heard of a hunter named Thomas, and the fact brought a whole new batch of questions with it. But, one at a time.

"I don't know. It's pretty stereotypical from there. They were caught. One by one they were killed. The pack found the nest a few days later and went in. Damien found Thomas unconscious, but he woke after they carried him out. The sun was coming up. Thomas saw them all change."

"They hunted him." Dean wrapped his arms around her.

"Yeah." She shivered, "I didn't think they'd actually kill him. I thought they were just trying to scare. You know? So he wouldn't come looking for them or something, but…"

"They did?"

"No. That was the plan. But once I realized what was happening, I tried to stop it. I won too," a small smile played on her lips. "He died before they could get to him."

"So how did you kill him?" How did this get so confusing. Dean didn't expect something this twisted coming from her. In fact, he didn't really expect anything coming from her.

"He wasn't dead, Dean," she snapped, immediately back in the defensive shell she seemed to live in, "They bit him. Some girl thought he was fun." There was a long pause before she looked up at him. "What was I supposed to do? I didn't want to, but…but he would have killed me! And it wasn't really him anyway." Her voice broke, "What choice did I have?"

He didn't respond. What was there to say? She did the right thing, and she knew it. Besides, he didn't really know how to deal with problems like this. They didn't really come up too often. Perk of having the no emotion 'if it's supernatural we kill it" theory.

"Anyway," she said with a misplaced laugh, "it's your turn."

"Yeah." Despite the fact that she held up her end of the bargain, he was still reluctant to share that particular story. No one except Sammy knew about it, and he had planned on keeping it that way.

"Dean, you promised."

"Maybe I lied."

"The world's full of maybes. For instance, maybe I'll turn on you and rip your throat out."

"Point taken." He cleared his throat. "It was when my dad was possessed. The demon wanted the colt, and Sammy too, and I was in the way."

"How did it leave a scar like that? I though demons worked from the inside."

"They do. He did. I'm not sure how, exactly, but it hurt like hell."

"Way to underplay it."

"What?" Everything she said just confused him more.

"Sam told me you were pronounced dead at the hospital."

He was going to kill his brother. "Yeah, well, it takes a little more than a demon with a secret agenda to kill me."

"Good thing."

XxXxX

They shouldn't have done that. And then she shouldn't have said that. And then she should have kicked him out. And now she needed to hunt. Damn.

"Where's Sam?" she asked long after the had gotten dressed and settled into the movie _Jaws. _

"At the motel probably."

"Maybe you should go find him."

"Trying to get rid of me?" Dean asked with false provocation.

"Yeah. My boyfriend's about to come home and I don't know what would happen if he found you here."

"I'm sure I could take him."

Chase laughed and leaned into him. "I've seen how you "take" people, and it's not pretty."

"But I get the job done, right?"

"Sure. We'll go with that." She really needed to hunt. "But seriously, you should go find him."

"He's a big boy. I'm sure he can take care of himself."

"Yeah," Chase sighed. So that plan failed. She faintly wondered how he'd react to the truth. "Are you hungry."

"Kind of. Are you?"

"Yeah." She stood and grabbed her coat. "I'll go get something."

"I'll come with you."

"Dean. Just stay here. I'll be right back."

"Why?" The wrinkles in his forehead deepened.

"Because I'm sure sitting in my car for thirty minutes is not your idea of a good time."

"Why would I be sitting in your car for thirty minutes?"

The boy really was clueless, wasn't he? "I've got to hunt, Dean."

"What?"

"I. Have. To. Hunt." She didn't know anyway to make it simpler.

"I heard you. I just don't understand why."

"Because a wolf isn't that happy with big macs and fries."

He just stared at her.

"That was a joke. You laugh." Still met with silence, she just continued, "I'll be back soon. Promise." Without waiting for an answer, she swept out the door.

It wasn't long until she had caught her fill and was heading back to her car. The familiar path was slick with wet leaves, and she kept sliding every few feet. Soon though, her reliable, blue car came into view.

"It's about time." A low voice ventured, "It's getting cold."

She stopped short, "What do you want, Aden?"

"I'd like you to come back with me. We have one more night of the moon. One more hunt. Naturally, I'd like you to be part of it."

"I'm not in the mood." She stalked around to the driver's side of her car and opened the door.

"We need you, Chase. There's no one else as cold blooded as you. Not even my father was as good as you are."

"I said no, Aden."

"You don't really have a choice, Chase. I was just trying to ask politely."

"I'll see you around Aden." She started to slip into her car, but stopped when a hand abruptly grabbed her arm.

"Chase, just listen to him."

"Turner!" She pulled against the man's sure grip, "Let me go!"

"Sorry, Chase. I've got my orders."

"Screw your orders! Let me go!" She pulled in vain against his grip as she was dragged back into the woods. Turner remained silent, and kept pulling her along. "Aden! You sorry son of a bitch! Let me go now!"

"Watch it, Chastity. You wouldn't want to be responsible for more deaths, now would you." His voice was entirely too calm for her liking.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your new friends are very persistent when it comes to your well being. Desiree and Bella had more trouble than expected catching them."

"What?" she gasped.

"Oh, did I forget to mention that?" He grinned, "They're waiting for you. Or rather, the hunt is waiting for you."


	13. What Goes Around Comes Around

**I wish I could make money off my obsessions…that would be cool. **

**Sad days. I think there's only two more chapters left. I think. Hm.**

**Anyway, thanks so much for your comments! They totally make want to work harder on this and make sure it's great! Thank you all so much!

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So she had to hunt. He could handle that. So she was part wolf…_really _part wolf. He could handle that too. Honestly, he could. Pacing from one end of the room to the other, he explained to himself exactly how he could handle that. Because he could. Really.

A light tap on the door brought him away from his path in the carpet. "Hell…o!" he exclaimed when he saw the disturbance. She was tall, thin, blonde, and had the body of a goddess. Two seconds after setting eyes on her, he was pretty much incapable of rational thought.

"Hi," she giggled holding out her hand, "I'm Bella. I've come to see Chase. Is she home?"

"No," he said flashing her a grin, "but I'm sure she wouldn't mind you waiting for her."

With another giggle, Bella waltzed in on never ending legs.

"So," Dean slid into the chair next to the one she had chosen, "how do you know Chase?"

"We go way back," she answered crossing and uncrossing her legs.

"Oh?" he asked with his eyes locked on her pale flesh.

"Yeah," she leaned towards him. "You must be her newest victim."

"Victim?" Dean chuckled, "I've been a lot of things, but victim hasn't been one of them."

"Hasn't it." Bella pushed herself out of the chair and strolled to the window.

Dean followed her, "Never."

"Well," she spun around, "there's a first time for everything." In three seconds flat, she had him pinned to the ground.

It took a second for Dean to catch up, but as soon as he did, it was all too obvious that something wasn't good. Maybe Sammy was right. He should start using his upstairs brain more.

"Now here's how this is going to happen," Bella hissed, "you're going to wipe that smartass grin off your face and calmly walk out of the building with me. We're going to get into my car, and then we're going to visit the pack. Got it?"

"No more smartass grin. Out of the building. Car. Pack. That it?" he babbled trying to buy time.

"Smart boy." Cautiously, she eased off of him, and, when he stood, roughly grabbed his arm.

"I have a question," he stopped walking. After throwing him a dirty look, Bella nodded. "You all can be killed by any type of sliver, right?"

"What?"

"Any type of silver, right? Knives, swords, candlesticks," he twisted out of her grip, "bullets," and pulled his gun out of the waistband of his jeans. He grinned as she backed into a corner of the room. "It's like a big game of clue. Must suck sometimes. Well," he cocked the gun, "any last words?"

Bella frantically looked around the apartment, and then, suddenly, her eyes calmly came back to Dean's. "Yeah," her voice had regained its willing tone. "Ouch."

And Dean saw stars.

XxXxX

Chase paced back and forth within the confines of her makeshift cage. Silver bars had been pushed into the ground. They were too high to jump over, too close together to squeeze through, but far enough apart for her to see everything that was going on. Aden was barking orders to Turner and another male, Garrett, a few more of his minions watching the sky, while still more were watching the road. Chase glanced at the moon. They had twenty minutes, tops, until they changed.

"Look, Chase," she hadn't noticed Aden slink next to the bars, "our fox. Or foxes in this case."

She watched Desiree's black Benz round the corner and come to a stop. Des stepped out of the driver's side while, Bella, Aden's newest toy, unfolded from the passenger side. With a sick smile, she opened the back door and jerked Dean out onto the dirt. Desiree had retrieved Sam, and even though she held him tightly, she seemed more hesitant than her accomplice.

"Aden," Bella whined dragging Dean to him, "I thought you said this would be a challenge!"

"From what I heard it didn't go as smoothly as planned," Aden scolded, but softly, like a father with a two year old. He looked down at Dean. "I gave you fair warning. You should have left."

Dean meet his eyes. "As soon as the wicked bitch of the east lets go, I swear, I'm going to kill you. And I promise, it will hurt like hell."

"We'll see." Aden watched Desiree tie Sam up in the middle of the clearing.

Chase came as close to the bars as she could, and smiled when she caught Dean's eye.

'You okay?_' _he mouthed.

She nodded.

"Chase," Aden turned back to her, "would you like to come out and play?"

She sank back. "I thought the pack couldn't hunt them. Damien said-"

"My father is dead, Chase. His word no longer governs us."

"Dead? But he was fine. He should have died for…he couldn't have died! Unless," the realization hitter harder than she thought possible. "You killed him."

"He wore out his welcome. It's time for a new breed of werewolves. A breed that lives up to its birthright." He stepped next to Sam. "I think we'll play teams tonight. Untie him."

Desiree followed orders and the brothers found themselves caged in only by werewolves.

"A few different rules tonight, I think. First, we will give you a head start. Second, we will follow you wherever you go no matter the human population. Third," Aden looked around the circle and grinned at Chase, "we will kill you. But feel free to run as long as you want." As Aden finished his speech, the clearing became bathed in moonlight.

"Run," Chase whispered. Nothing moved. "Run!" she yelled this time, and, taking the hint, the boys ran.

The wolves slowly grew, and whatever humanity the pack had obtained over the years disappeared with each new hair. Soon the pack was padding around restlessly. Only Aden, in all his colorless glory, stood at attention.

_Now. _Chase heard the command echo through her head, and she knew the rest of the pack did too. Like a great wave, they all began running for the forest.

"Please!" Chase screamed as they progressed, "No!"

But no wolf stopped. They were all too power driven by one who had no power at all.

There was a quiet whimper to her right. A lone red wolf circled around Chase's sliver prison. "Des!" Chase exclaimed. "Des, you have to stop them! They can't do this! You know they can't!"

The wolf ignored her and continued circling.

"Desiree! You know he can't do this! You have to do something!"

No response.

"Please!" Chase begged, "Please!"

The wolf stopped at the opposite end of the circle and began pawing in front of a single pole.

Chase walked to the pole and watched as the wolf pushed first one paw, then the other, then its nose against the cold, solid, _steal_! Of course. They had to get her in it somehow. Warily, Chase placed a hand on the pole, and, when it didn't burn, pushed as hard as she could. The pole wobbled, creaked, and with one final push fell into the dirt.

The wolf backed up, and Chase moved forward. The opening was barely big enough to get through, and, in her haste, she felt her back scarp against the silver. Her skin boiled, but she couldn't afford to notice it. Biting her tongue to keep from screaming, Chase cleared the bars. "I owe you," she said heading for the words.

Black fur flying, the wolf only had one thing on its mind: time. Would she make it in time? Had too much time passed? Could she run faster than the pack? Who would win? _Stop,_ her human side scolded, _you have logic. You can reason. The rest of them can't. So reason. _The wolf slowed to a trot searching for a scent.

The boys would run towards civilization in hopes of finding some weapon. But Dean was smart, he wouldn't risk the exposure. So where would they go? What was around? Silver, silver, something silver…What was silver? Jewelry was silver. Knives, spoons, forks were silver. Some coins were silver…. Film. Silver was used to make film. The old theater. But would they know that? Sam would know that. She immediately headed for the main road. It was faster. She could meet them there. They would be there. Dean wouldn't look back.

XxXxX

"Sam!" Dean called, "This way!" There was a clearly marked path to the right.

"No, that's where they expect us to go."

"It doesn't matter where we go, they can smell us!" Dean started to turn.

Sam grabbed his arm and pulled him the opposite direction. "Just follow me."

"Where?"

"There's an old theater a few miles from here."

"I don't think a family friendly movie is the answer to this."

"The theater's abandoned."

"I don't get it." Dean stopped.

"There's silver in filmstrips. There's filmstrips at the theater."

"Well then." Dean grinned and kept running.

X

The black fur blended in with the crumbling building, but her yellow eyes flared when she saw them. In seconds, Chase had her arms thrown around Dean's neck. "Thank God!"

"Do you know the way in?" Sam asked searching the side of the building.

Wordlessly, Chase led them around the side and through a decaying, red door. "We need to burn all the old film," she explained once the door was shut behind them. "The pack can still come in, not comfortably, but they can do it, so we have to hurry."

"How are you in here?" Dean questioned as Sam dragged a large trashcan towards them.

Chase bit her lip and glanced at the ground. "Uncomfortably."

"Dean!" Sam yelled to obtain his attention. "Help me get all the film into the trashcan. We can burn it in there."

"I'll keep watch." Chase stationed herself next to the door.

Eyeing the building, Dean noticed a set of shelves stuffed with old film canisters. He quickly grabbed some, emptied the contents into the bin, and dropped in a match. He glanced over at Chase and saw her stifle a cough as the smoke filtered through the room. They needed to hurry.

"Dean," Chase called a few seconds later, "Once that's burned the dust will poison whatever wolf it touches." She started to steal out the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Dean rushed over.

Chase cringed when his hand touched her back. "I'm hoping you aren't going to have to use that." With a kiss to his cheek she slipped from his grasp and outside.

"Sammy," Dean said turning back to the fire, "move faster."

XxXxX

_Traitor. _Aden's authority resounded in her head. _You will die for this._

If wolves could smile, the shadow facing him would have. Maybe she would die tonight, but it would be well worth it, and he wasn't counting on that. She was aware that the pack had surrounded them, and that Aden had crossed some junction in life that turned him as just as cold as he claimed her to be. But it didn't matter. Slowly, her human instincts were sinking deeper and deeper into the wolf's subconscious, and she had no desire to fight it. Tonight the wolf would get what it begged for every second of her life. Tonight it would get blood. The blood of its only challenger.

Aden snarled and sunk low to the ground. Chase mimicked the movement, and the two slowly started to circle. The wolf sized up every possible weakness-eyes, ears, nose, stomach- as well as every strength-height, weight, support- until it knew exactly how to kill the animal that had the daring to confront it.

Without warning, Aden lunged at her. Chase avoided him easily. She had been doing this much longer than him. He jumped again, and this time she was able to sink her teeth into the flesh and fur around his neck.

XxXxX

"Sam, come on!" Dean lugged the ash filled can to the door. "Come on!" he said again.

Sam ran forward and opened the door, but stopped suddenly, causing his brother to run into him.

"We don't have time for you to stare!" Dean pushed past him, but quickly stopped himself.

The pack was in a circle around two wolves. It watched intently as the two circled around each other. Rapidly, a white one tried attacking the other, but the second simply dodged the obviously inexperienced fighter. The first wolf tried again, but this time the second was able to grab the first around the neck.

Dean watched as the white wolf struggled against the hold of the second, but it wasn't until the fur was stained dark that it was let go. The wolf up righted itself, but couldn't seem to stay still. It wobbled back and forth in front of the other, and if wolves could smile, Dean swore the second one would.

"Dean," Sam whispered, "it's Chase."

"What?" Dean watched the second wolf slink around the circle. It almost seemed invisible with its midnight colored fur. The only thing that stood out were the yellow eyes narrowed on its victim. It was Chase.

"Should we do something?" Sam shifted his weight and drummed his fingers on the rim of the can.

"No." Dean could barely hear his voice himself, and was sure Sam couldn't. But instead of caring, he kept his eyes locked on the fight.

The white wolf tried lunging one more time, but was so dazed that it missed and ran into a wolf in the circle. Chase still kept her distance, even when the white wolf struggled for its footing, and struggled to return to the center. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean noticed a light brown wolf fidget in its place. As Chase stalked forward for the kill, the brown wolf jumped in and pinned Chase to the ground.

"Now we do something," Dean stated reaching into the trashcan and grabbing a handful of powder.

"Wait," Sam commanded, his eyes on the wolves.

Dean turned back around. The brown wolf just stood there, over Chase, like it was trying so hard to force its teeth through her flesh, and Chase just lied there, daring it to. "Do something!" Dean urged quietly.

And she did. The black wolf shut its eyes and was quickly replaced by a brunette, pale skinned girl that looked worse than death.

He wanted to rush in there guns blazing, but something held him back. He saw Chase flat out on the ground under a murderous brown werewolf. He saw the pack sitting obediently in their circle, and he saw the white wolf slowly sink to the ground and return to human form. At least that was one victory. One evil bastard dead.

The brown wolf glanced over at the human and howled. The sound was mournful, respectful, and chilling. With a growl, it returned its attention to Chase, and slowly lowered its teeth to her neck.

Out of nowhere, a red blur flew at the wolf, knocking him off Chase and sprawling on the ground. The new, red wolf growled, and the brown one slowly raised itself up, and took off into the woods.

"Now we do something," Sam concluded, and strode toward the pack and Chase.

Dean followed, and when they reached her he knelt down. "She's still alive." He breathed a sigh of relief. "Why is she like this?"

The red wolf silently padded its way over and nudged Chase's side.

"I think it's trying to tell us." Sam watched as the wolf continued nudging Chase's side. "Dean, turn her on her side."

He did as he was told, and immediately saw the problem. Chase's back was raw and bleeding. It looked like someone had set fire to it moments earlier. "What happened?"

The red wolf began nosing the pocket of Chase's jeans.

"Look," Sam said pulling out a familiar syringe. "I think she touched silver somewhere."

The red wolf sat on its haunches and watched as Sam injected they serum into Chase's arm.

After a few airless seconds, Chase began to cough and Dean helped her into a sitting position. When her coughing fit had ended, Chase gave Dean a small smile, and then turned to the wolf.

"I owe you," she mumbled. Reaching behind her head, Chase swept her hair away from her neck and bowed her head. In response, the wolf knelt down and placed a paw on Chase's knee.

"Mind if I ask what's going on?" Dean voiced.

Chase looked at him with a drained expression. "Home," she said before passing out for a second time.


	14. You Shook Me All Night Long

**To disclaim, or not to disclaim. That is the question. **

**One more chapter. I think I might cry. **

**Thanks to everyone who has read this, and (hopefully) everyone who will. **

**Oh, and the werewolf episode? I'm obviously biased, but, um…can't say I was thrilled. (I'm an avid Jess fan. Sammy disappointed me. Sad, but true. And, I mean, not my idea of werewolves, but, hey, everyone's entitled to their own views.)**

**Anyway. Thanks again.

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"She's going to be fine Dean," Sam whispered above her head.

"Then why hasn't she woken up? She wasn't like this last time and she was practically cut open!" She heard Dean's footsteps pacing around the room.

She wanted to tell him to calm down, that she was alright, but her eyelids were just too damn heavy, and her mouth wouldn't obey her mind.

"You're going to ruin her floor if you keep that up," Sam commented. A hand came to rest on her forehead, "At least her fever's gone."

'I don't give a damn about her fever." Heavy footsteps came closer to her bed, "How's her back?"

The same hand slid under her arm and gently turned her onto her side. "Better. It'll probably disappear by tonight."

_I'm fine! _She wanted to scream. Well, minus the fact that she couldn't move she's was okay.

"Get the door, Sammy." Dean's voice was strained. As Sam's footfalls slowly faded, she was returned to her back. "Please, wake up, Chase. Or at least give me some sign you're not dying."

"She's not dying." An authoritative voice wormed its way into Chase's mind. Desiree was here.

"Oh really? So you're here to finish her off, then?" Dean snapped.

Chase wanted to slap him.

"Hardly," Desiree's heels clicked the distance to her bed. "Would you boys mind giving us some privacy?" They must have agreed because soon the only presence in the room was Desiree's. "Open your eyes, Chase."

She did as she was told. Desiree looked as worn out as Chase felt, but managed a smile as Chase caught her eye. "Thank you," Chase sighed, finally able to use her voice, "I thought I was in one of those operations gone wrong for a second."

Des laughed a little and sat on the edge of Chase's bed. "You know I'm technically supposed to kill you, right?"

"Oh?"

"You killed a member of the pack. You know that's against the rules." Desiree's smile grew, "But since that certain member killed I guess it was payback."

Chase glanced at the sheets on her bed, "I'm sorry about your dad, Des. And Aden too…kinda."

"Yeah. My brother certainly proved himself to be beyond cold blooded, didn't he?" She shook her head, "But, I guess it had to happen this way. Otherwise how would I be able to lead?"

"You wouldn't." Chase slowly sat up, "You'll be a great leader, though."

"Thanks." Desiree stood up and walked to the window.

"Have you seen Turner?" Chase asked apprehensively.

Desiree frowned and shifter her weight from foot to foot. "No."

Chase let silence answer for her. Turner had been her mate. It probably was for the best, but Des had lost so much in such a short time. Smoothing the blanket out around her, Chase watched Desiree walk back to the bedside out of the corner of her eye.

"And that brings me to another reason why I came to see you." She sat down beside Chase. "Turner will be back eventually. And when he is, he'll try and kill you."

"I wouldn't doubt it," Chase answered sourly.

"I don't want you dead, Chase."

Chase's forehead wrinkled, "What are you trying to say?"

"That you need to get out of the city. The state, preferably." She bit her lip. "It's not that I want you gone. I don't. But we both know you aren't happy here, and I think that you should take this chance to get out. It'll be so much-"

With a shake of her head, Chase cut the girl off. "I know." She glanced at the floor below, but she couldn't see anybody. "I just…I don't know where to go."

"Go home, Chastity." Desiree leaned forward and gave her a gentle hug, careful not to touch her back. "Try again."

"Maybe you're right." She returned the hug.

"So, um, you girls gonna kiss now?" Dean's comment broke the mood.

Chase grinned, "Winchester, you are one sick puppy."

He shrugged, "But you like me, right?" He shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled sheepishly.

"If I have too." She glanced at Desiree. "Des, this is Sam and Dean Winchester."

"We've met," Sam reached out to shake the werewolf's hand. "No hard feelings about knocking me out."

Des laughed, "Thanks." A momentary silence settled until Desiree started to stand up. "I've got to go. We've got some…cleaning up to do." She started to leave the apartment.

"Good luck, Des," Chase called.

Desiree turned and smiled a final time, "You too, Chase." And then she walked out the door.

"So," Chase said after a second, "You boys have a good time last night?"

"You sure know how to show a guy a good time," Dean commented settling himself beside Chase.

"Something I pride myself in." Chase leaned against him. "Are you okay, Sam?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." Sam alternated his gaze from his brother to Chase. "I'm going to get something to eat. You guys want anything?"

"No," they said in unison.

"I'll be back later, then."

"Hey, Sam," she said to his retreating back.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

He smiled, "See you later."

"Bye." She watched him walk down the stairs, and listened as the door slammed.

Dean put his arm around her shoulders. "It's just me and you."

"Should I start running?"

He pretended to look hurt. "After all I do for you, this is the thanks I get?"

"Of course not." She tilted her head up and kissed him. "I owe you."

"Even though you would have been better off if Sammy and I hadn't shown up?"

"You're wrong." Chase kissed him again, "I wouldn't have been better off."

XxXxX

A while later, as he watched her sleep, Dean thought about what would happen next. Their job was done. Everything here was going to be okay. Chase would be fine. It was time to move to the next killer evil. Unfortunately, the next gig was on the other side of the country. Somewhere without deranged wolves, abandoned theaters, and Chase.

She stirred next to him, and he looked down to see her eyes slowly open.

"How long have I been asleep?" she asked stifling a yawn.

"Not long." He pulled the sheets tighter around them. "You feeling okay?"

"Fine." The yawn finally escaped.

"Looks like you could use a few more hours."

She ignored him and laid her head on his shoulder. "So about the one topic we've been avoiding," she said quietly.

"What would that be?" He wasn't going to talk about this. Not with her.

"When are you leaving?" She fingered the charm on his necklace.

He watched her for a second before answering. "Who says I am."

"Come on, Dean. We both know the evil here has been conquered," she paused, twirling and untwirling the black rope, "But here is just one place."

"You want me to go?" He braced himself for the answer.

"No." Her hand moved to his neck, "but you've got the whole world to save, and you can't do that staying here."

"You could come with us. It'd be like one big dysfunctional family." He laughed at the thought, "I swear we'd let you have the shower first."

"Dean," she laughed good naturedly. "As amazing as that would be, I can't. Maybe one day, but not now."

"Why?"

"I've got my own world to save."

There was a long silence. Dean watched the sky grow dark, and the moonless sky fill with stars. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I am."

He nodded. "We should probably leave in the morning. Islen's going to be an all day drive."

"You'll make it in half a day with the way you drive."

He laughed, "I doubt that." The front door slammed and then was bolted. The clicking of the chain broke the quiet atmosphere.

"You should go talk to your brother."

"You should get some sleep," he retorted grabbing his jeans.

"I will if you will."

"It's a deal." He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I'll see you in the morning?"

"I'll see you." Her teeth gleamed in the dark as she smiled at him. "I could love you, Winchester. You know that, right?"

He smiled back and kissed her again. Yeah. He knew that.

"Get some sleep, Sammy," he said coming down the stairs. "We've got an early morning."


	15. Everything Changes

**One last time as the tears set in: I don't own them. I wish I did, but, sadly, I've got no fairy god mother to grant said wish. Drat. Oh. And the song is by Staind. Great band. **

Well, that's all folks. I know, I know, some people will think this is a junky way to end it, and I could have gone on longer, and the ending isn't sufficient, and blah, blah, blah. I disagree though (and I'm not saying that because I wrote it!). It's fitting to me. Everyone and everything changes, after all. But, if you don't like it (and have a REAL reason) let me know- nicely, please- and I might add a second ending or something. Depends on how nice people are.

A note on the sequel: coming to a fanfiction near you! It's going to be a little while because...well...I need a break from Chase. But I promise, there will be one.

In the meantime I hope you all liked this fic enough to read my next one: Angels and Airwaves. The first chapter should be up tomorrow (unless there's more...um..."high traffic" on this site and it won't let me login!)!

I'd like to thank everyone who's shown interest in this. **Thank you.**

**-**Jenn_

* * *

_

_If you just walked away  
What could I really say?  
Would it matter anyway?  
Would it change how you feel?_

Dean woke up to his brother falling off the couch. He slammed into the coffee table and then rolled to the ground. Suppressing a laugh, Dean rushed over to help him up. "Okay there, Sammy?" Sam just glared at him. Still laughing, Dean pulled his brother up and glanced up the stairs. "If you woke her up, I bet she'll kill you." Still just a glare. "Fine. You want coffee? I want coffee. I'll go ask Chase if she wants anything, and we'll grab some and some breakfast before we leave. Alright?"

_I am the mess you chose  
The closet you cannot close,  
The devil in you I suppose  
'Cause the wounds never heal._

The plane ride was quiet and uneventful. She could see the Eiffel Tower in the distance, as well as the rest of her past laid out before her. It was a clean little map. Uncomplicated. That's what Thomas had said. Uncomplicated. She would climb to the top of the tower just for him. She would make a wish just for Dean. She would move on just for her

_But everything changes  
If I could turn back the years  
If you could learn to forgive me  
Then I could learn to feel_

"Hey, did you move her laptop?" Sam glanced at the empty desk.

"No." There was a sudden feeling of dread in Dean's stomach. He raced up the stairs only to find a neatly made bed, a cleaned out closet, and a picture album open to a portrait of Chase and her family in front of the Eiffel Tower. She had left. Not even a real note (a picture hardly counted). He knew, if he would admit to himself, that she had been planning it all along. Too bad it took a few near death experiences to make her realize it. Chuckling to himself, he watch as seven million thick, white lines flashed through his mind. Seven million thick good byes she so easily avoided. She had always impressed him.

_Sometimes the things I say  
In moments of disarray  
Succumbing to the games we play  
To make sure that it's real._

He wouldn't be upset, she was sure of it. He would understand if nothing else. Not like she was asking for acceptance anyway. Turner would be angry, murderous even, but the Winchesters would be long gone by the time he came around. Hopefully a million miles away from South Carolina. There was a great big world full of evil out there. A great big world Dean had to save because, if she truly faced it, there wasn't anybody else that would.

_When it's just me and you.  
Who knows what we could do.  
If we can just make it through  
The toughest part of the day.  
_

"Get some sleep, Sammy. We've got a long way to go." The Impala roared to life, and screeched out of the parking lot.

"Wake up, Miss. We're beginning to land." The flight attendant shook Chase's shoulder and then moved on. Paris was so beautiful in the morning. She belonged here. Crappy way to leave the states. But, if she admitted it, she knew they were expecting this. She knew that it was okay

_Stay here together  
And we could  
Conquer the world  
If we could  
Say that forever  
Is more than just a word._

And they would be okay. Neither would admit it. Neither would deny it. But they would be okay

_If you just walked away  
What could I really say?  
Would it matter anyway?  
It wouldn't change how you feel._


End file.
